War For Freedom
by Cybroid
Summary: The year is 2037. It has been twelve years since the GKR's occupation of America began. They have spread across the world, and the defending nations continue their war against them. Soon, everything will change. And the fate of the war will rest on many. Either the GKR wins, or the Resistance. Only one side can. And one side will.
1. Arc I: Chester Mornings

_"What is a hero? I've asked myself that question so many times, it's burned into my mind, like a brand. Ever since I joined this war, I have found many answers, yet I never wished to. But which were right? Which were wrong? That, I do not know. You may not understand what I am talking about. You may be asking yourself 'what war?'. Well, allow me to start from the beginning..._

 _It all began years ago, but for us, it began in 2024. The KPA, Korean People's Army, had launched satellites around the world. Everything was fine then. No one had any fears. But then, in 2025, it happened. The satellites sent out a global EMP, and the KPA invaded America. They took the western seaboard in a matter of short days, defeating the US army there in one, swift strike. Eventually, they had control over the Eastern half of America. Our hope began to rise when, in 2027, San Francisco was taken back. But that only made things worse for us. First, they began sending more troops in. Then, they dropped the bombs, setting fire to towns and cities. Every victory for those resisting was a loss for us. By 2032, they had taken all of the south, west and east parts of North America. Then, they expanded to other continents. Europe, Australia, Africa. Nowhere was safe. For every satellite destroyed, they sent up two more. They began a war against the world, and the world was losing. By 2037, half the world was theirs._

 _That is where I came in. I had turned 17 in that year, and lived in a small town, under KPA occupation. That year, everything in my life changed. For the worst..."_

* * *

 **Chester, Pennsylvania, 06:50 3rd March 2037**

* * *

The day was young. The sun shone down on the small town of Chester. There were not many modern buildings, and those that were modern were owned by the garrison. By the time the whole town was bathed with light, a siren had sounded, and the inhabitants of the town came out of their homes, ready for their daily lives. Now, you would expect that this town had everyone laboring around while the KPA guards mock and taunt us. But in truth, it was very much the opposite. Sure, a few of us worked hard, and there most of the garrison were bad apples, but there were a couple that were nice. At least, nice enough not to make you trip in the mud, or knock you about while you carried firewood for your family.

I rose out of bed, and looked out the window. Like every morning, I opened it and felt the cool breeze rush in, blowing my light brown hair back. The sun warmed my skin, and I smiled with my eyes closed, taking in the smell of spring. But it was to be the last time I would, for spring was coming to an end, soon to be replaced by summer. After about a minute of sitting there on my bed, I stood up and stumbled lazily over to my closet and got myself dressed. Today's attire consisted of a green T-shirt, tan trousers and white sneakers. On my way out, I plucked my lucky cap from the top of the door.

The reason why I think of it as lucky is because of all things, it survived. Everything else had been destroyed in the...I stopped myself from thinking back further. It had been a dreadful day, and I did not wish to think about it anymore. So I pulled the cap on and continued on down the stairs to the kitchen, where my mother had a piece of toast already waiting. We never got much, but she always managed to make it a filling and tasty meal, no matter what we had. You give her a single grain of wheat, and in a couple of days, you'll have enough bread for the whole town. Before things went bad, she used to work in the bakery.

She wore a light-yellow T-shirt and faded dark jeans with a pair of socks on. The same white pair she had on around the house every day. I swore that it was always the same pair, but she had a whole bunch that looked the same. Her skin had a pale complexion. Her wavy blonde hair was tied up in a bun behind her head.

"Good morning to you, handsome" she joyfully greeted with a smile as she set the plate down, her British accent thick in her voice. Even her blue eyes seemed to smile. She was always complimenting me on my looks. But she complimented my father more. Much more. "Pleasant dreams?" I nodded.

"Just like always, Mom." I sat at the table, and dug into the food. Halfway through, I could feel my stomach reaching the point where it would hold no more. I had one quarter left by the end of it. She went outside and scattered it through the grass in the backyard, and the birds swooped in. She dusted the last of the crumbs before returning inside. The whole time, I sat and gazed through the window. She seemed to have a way with the animals. They feared everyone but her. Maybe it was because of how kindhearted she was.

As she came in, the sound of a door opening in another part of our home creaked through, then there was a click as it closed. My father walked in, his brown jacket dirtied with oil.

My father wore this jacket every day to work, along with his thick, grey pants. Both had dirty blotches of oil covering them. His light brown face was darker than it's natural complexion, thanks to oil. his black hair was gleaming and slick with oil and grease. He worked on the vehicles the KPA had, such as minor repairs and the changing of oil. Of course, he was always closely watched. But they seemed to trust him. He used to work as a mechanic, so this was the best job for him. He earned the rations, and my mother put them to use. And me? Basically, I was lazy. I hardly ever did anything, except for maybe helping my mother around the house a bit. My father tried to teach me about engines once, but I fell asleep. He gave up after that.

"Good mornin' all!" his voice boomed. His accent gave away his heritage, which was from Texas. I gagged as the smell of the car oil and grease hit my nose. i had always found those smells disgusting, and yet, they were a part of my everyday life. He raised his gloved hand to his face and wiped it over with a rag. "Smells good. What's for breakfast today, deary?" She set down the same breakfast I had in front of him, and unlike me, he took it nice and slow.

"How was work, Kyle?" He shrugged, his mouth full. After he swallowed, he answered.

"It was fine." His voice was lower now. That wasn't good. It usually meant that it was not fine, and something had happened. She rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. I heard about it." They both had sorrowful looks. I knew why. Last night, one of my father's friends had been killed when a soldier thought it would be funny to kick at the lever of the jack holding the car up. He had died within seconds. After a moment of silence, Kyle spoke up to change the subject, turning to me. Now that he looked at me, I felt small as he stared at me with his dark brown eyes, under those thick brows.

"How was your night, Jason?" That was my name. Jason Matthews. My father was Kyle Matthews, and my mother was Jessica Matthews. I gave the same answer I gave my mother. My mother sat by him and started to eat her breakfast. She ate half as much as us, which resulted in her slim form. Kyle had urged her to eat more, but she always refused, wishing to use the rations sparingly. These times were hard on us all.

My eyes moved to my silver analog watch, then they darted to the radio in the middle of the table when I realized the time. My hand reached over, but I was stopped by a gruff voice.

"Son, you know I don't like ya listenin' to that. It gives us nothin' but trouble." I ignored him and switched it on, tuning it slowly to get to the right station. I heard a familiar voice as I passed it, and quickly turned it back and forth until it was clear. Now the voice was clear. It was a feminine voice, and sounded at least my mother's age.

" _Yesterday, we were shown the true colors of the KPA once more. Another small labor camp had been massacred by a bombing. They blame the Resistance for it, but you shall know the truth. An hour before, the garrison pulled out. They knew what was coming, and abandoned the innocents to their fates. Only five were saved by nearby Resistance forces. Take this as a warning. They will spare no one. This is the Voice Of Freedom. And we shall guide you to victory."_ There was a faint beeping, then static. My father switched it off.

"I don't believe it. I know the KPA can be cruel, but this? This is ridiculous!" he hissed in disbelief at the radio. Mother nodded, agreeing with him. But I did not share their views. I hated the KPA. They had done things like this before. Even though this was the case, I kept it to myself, or I would receive a scolding from my father. The way he was headed, he would be joining the army, if he was allowed. But they would never allow an American to join them. They were strictly Korean, and sometimes Chinese of Japanese. They looked down on us Americans, and hated us. That I would never understand, considering that it was _them_ who invaded _us_.

The scrape of the chair moving across the floor caught their attention as I stood to leave. I turned to the stairs and stalked off. Even though I could not see their faces, they were most likely filled with confusion. I spent the rest of the morning up there, laying on my bed while staring up at the ceiling. At some time, without knowing, I drifted into a long sleep, wishing for a dream to take me to a better place.

* * *

It was becoming dark when I awoke. And that was exactly the time I wanted to wake up. Beside my bed sat a backpack, packed with the items I was going to need for that night's plan.

I climbed out from my open window, taking it slow and quiet, being watchful for any patrols that were to come by. After a double check to make sure the street was clear, I ducked and ran across to the other side to take cover in a short bush. And just in time, as a small recon drone hovered by, scanning the road ahead of it. I waited until it was completely out of sight, then turned away from the street and headed deeper into the town. My house was towards the outskirts, but my destination was towards the center of Chester. It was cold, and I could swear I had goosebumps on goosebumps. I wasn't sure if they were from the cold, or from some fear that lurked within.

A couple of blocks over, there were two others. One was closer to my age, and was a lot like me, except that he had red hair instead of my brown hair, and his eyes were green, unlike my blue eyes. His skin was a darker tone than mine, looking like he had been in the sun too much.

The other was a boy, at least thirteen. His hair was dark brown, and his eyes were a much paler blue than mine. They seemed to sparkle in the darkness, as if I was staring at two moons. His skin was as white as the sand of the whitest of beaches.

"Took you long enough. Stop to gaze at the stars for a bit?" the older boy asked. I glared back, but added a grin with it, knowing he was being sarcastic, as he always was.

"Lay off, Marcus. I woke up a little late, and had to avoid a drone. But I'm fine. No one caught me" I promised. But just in case, I cast a couple of quick glances to our surroundings. "At least, I think no one did." Marcus rolled his eyes at me and went on his way, leaving me and the kid alone in the dark. "We'd better catch up, Little Tom." That was his nickname, because in actual fact, he was sixteen. But he was really small, and I mean _really_ small. He looks like his thirteen or twelve with his height and young face. But that's just how he is. So we called him Little Tom. And he was fine with it. Most of the time.

He willingly followed, warily watching around. but i kept my eyes forward, trying to seek out Marcus in the darkness.

"Marcus" I called out, but cupped my hands so the sound was directed in his direction. I was being as careful as I could possibly be, because if you were caught out here, at this time, that was practically a death sentence. Even though that was the case, we still did it. You might think us as stupid, but what else could we do? It was a boring life here, always either working or staying cramped up in your bedroom. So obviously, we had to have a little fun. And the danger made it even more so.

We found our tanned friend at their set destination, leaning against the all with a can in his hands. His eyes darted from the can to us.

"Once again, you are late. You should work on it, or it might get you killed" he lectured mockingly, putting a finger to his throat as he finished.

"Late? I am never late" I scoffed, knowing all too well he was right. But I never liked to be lectured, or scolded. Especially from someone who wasn't my parents. "Shall we?" I asked, taking out my own can. He nodded, and we pulled up our masks over our faces and pressed down on the top of the cans and started creating our masterpiece. Tom kept watch from a nearby trashcan. We spent half an hour doing this, going from wall to wall until either we were caught, or we got tired. We preferred the latter, but it seemed that fate had a different outcome in mind.

"Freeze!" We froze, and slowly turned around. A KPA guard stood there, aiming his rifle towards us. If it wasn't for a masks, he would have recognized us if we escaped. He was past the trashcan where Tom had been. But he was nowhere to be seen, meaning he had run off. Marcus noticed and thought the same.

"That little bastard" he hissed. I knew he was imagining himself pummeling the shorty to a bloody pulp. The KPA guard took out his radio, removing one hand from the front of the rifle. If he fired, it would be aiming at the ground. So we took our chance, and bolted, the guard shouting after us to stop. We never did.


	2. Arc I: Vandals

_That was one the closest I had been to death. When together, me and Marcus wreaked havoc. We used to blow bins up, make artworks across the walls and prank the guards. As we grew older, our 'attacks' became more serious. If only we knew when to stop._

* * *

 **Chester, Pennsylvania, 11:00 4th March 2037**

* * *

I sat on my bed, eyeing the KPA troops that marched by the house. They were most likely looking for the 'artists' responsible for last night's disturbance near the Central Hall. And I knew who was. Me and my partner in crime, Marcus. I heard no news on anyone being caught, so it was relieving to know that he had not been caught. But that only made my worries worse, because we weren't the only ones there. Little Tom had been there too, and we both knew that if given the chance, he would squeal on us, reveal our identities, and before we knew it, we'd be lined up before the firing squad.

I cursed silently and punched my pillow as if it was the little snitch himself. I knew he hadn't done anything yet, but it was only a matter of time. And the wait for the inevitable was infuriating. Every second was painful, and my heart was constantly beating faster than ever. I was brought out of my thoughts when there was a knock at the front door. I looked down through my window and almost gasped when I saw three KPA. Two were normal soldiers, but the one in front looked like a captain, by the rank markings on his uniform and a red beret, while the grunts had helmets and fabric covering their faces. And I recognized the captain. They all had white on their armor, and the word Police on their black vests.

"Good evening, sir" his mother's voice hit my ears, and I felt my heart stop as the captain invited himself inside. I watched the door, expecting him to march up those stairs, handgun in one hand, and cuffs in another. That was if he didn't plan on killing me on the spot.

There was some voices downstairs. They were obviously speaking quietly to avoid me from eavesdropping on them.

"Jason! Can you please come down?" my mother called up the stairs. I knew what that meant. I was caught. I tried to keep on a blank face as I stepped carefully down the creaking stairs, every step making me cringe, to find his mother and the captain down the stairs, sitting around the table in the kitchen. His father was at work, and he caught a glimpse of the two guards waiting outside the kitchen.

"Yes mom?" I asked nonchalantly, being as polite as I ever was.

"You remember . He has some questions for you."

"Indeed, I do." He stood from his chair, standing tall before me. He looked muscular, but that was an illusion created by the padding of his uniform. His hazel eyes stared deep into mine, and in them, I saw hate and determination. In the past, I had crossed him, but I was too young to be executed. Now, he had his chance to kill me. But he had to prove it was me first. Though I guessed that Little Tom had told him all he needed.

"Where were you last night?" he demanded. Just as I thought. He always was one of those guys who always go straight to questions. I thought my answer over before sending it his way.

"I was asleep. Had a long day." He sneered, but only enough for me to notice, and it faded as quickly as it appeared. There was a long silence as he watched him closely.

"Do you know who may be willing to act against us?" He smiled deviously, as if he knew the truth already. But I guessed he didn't, so for now, I was safe. But I didn't lower my guard.

"No" I plainly answered. He studied me closely for a long while, expecting me to break under his stare, then he turned away.

"Very well. We will leave you to the rest of your day. Thank you for your time." And with that, he left. Once I heard the door close, I sighed with relief. That was a big mistake, because when I started for the stairs, my view was blocked by a very cranky woman. I gulped, staring into her eyes of despair and darkness. That was a look that made my heart stop, and not in a good way. I thought I would have a panic attack right there in front of her.

"H-hi mom" I stuttered. She said nothing, and her hand flicked up in a swift movement. The next second, she was pulling me by my ear and forcing me down onto the chair. If she had rope, she would have added that to the scene too. Around my waist and chest. My stomach tightened as her mouth began to move.

"What. Did. You. Do?" I forced an innocent smile, and restrained my lips from quivering. My attempt failed, for her look was too much. My legs wobbled, and my hands gripped the sides of my seat tightly, refusing to let go.

"N-nothing! I didn't do anything!" I tried to talk myself out of it, but I knew she bought not a single word. She knew how my mind worked, and had a suspicion that I had something to do with last night. And she was right. She knew she was right. The next thing she did was the worst thing she could do to me.

"Please, stop! For your own sake!" she cried, hugging me tightly. I already felt the guilt rushing through me. It was her best weapon against me. And it always worked. I couldn't help myself as the words came from my mouth.

"I will" I promised. I wonder now if that promise was worth it.

* * *

That evening, we came to the town rally. Every evening, the town was called together for announcements. Min stood atop the stage, with two other officers on either side of him. If not for their faces not being covered, you would assume they were clones.

I stood towards the back of the rally, with my parents by my left. On my right, Marcus stood. He had no parents, and lived with his older brother. I was certain that he was towards the front.

"People of Chester. It has come to my attention that there are some who wish to disturb the peace that we hold! As of now, patrols shall come by every house until these vandals are found!" I felt a pang as the words reached my ears. Marcus flinched in the corner of my eye. He was bound to be among the suspects, and most probably already had a visit from the captain himself. "Go on with your normal duties! For anyone with information on them, we ask you to come forward with it! For those who do, they shall receive two weeks of work-free rations!" There were murmurs throughout the crowd. Excited and greedy whispers. If I knew anyone in this town, they were mostly desperate, and would most likely give up their own neighbor for an extra day of rations.

"There goes the neighborhood" Marcus joked. He was now by my side, leaning close to me. "You been visited?" I checked to see if my parents were listening. I was in the clear since their attention was completely on the stage.

"Yes" I whispered back. "Don't worry. I told him nothing."

"Same here. Although, my brother did questioned me after. He doesn't know. Yet."

"My mother suspects me, but she does not know either." I looked past some people in front of me to find Little Tom. He was on an angle so I could see his giddy grin. "Let's just hope that Tom doesn't do anything stupid." Marcus growled like an animal at the mention of the name.

"He's always been a little snitch" he muttered accusingly. "It's only a matter of time before he shows off his true colours." I nodded my head, agreeing with him. Our biggest worry was that little bastard. One word was all he had to say, and we would be dead men walking. We had already dug our graves too deep. And he would be the one to put us in them.

"As well as the vandals, there has been another incident." Hyun Min motioned with his right hand, and two grunts brought an older man, his hands bound in cuffs.

There was a muffled cry not too far from me. I didn't look, for I knew who it was, just as I knew who their prisoner was. The prisoner was one of the farmers, and the person who had cried out was his sister. From the captain's face, he had not heard her sudden cry.

"This man was caught stealing from the bakery three days ago. He was caught by " he added, gesturing to one of the soldiers holding the thief. "This robbery is his last, for he has done many. And we all know the punishment." As he spoke, he drew his pistol and aimed it towards his head. As he finished, he squeezed the trigger without hesitation. He had no mercy, and I saw no remorse or regret as the farmer's blood was spilled.

* * *

I couldn't get the image of today's from my head. The way the bullet propelled itself through the air before drilling through his skull, then exiting through the other side, blood following in its wake. Then the loud cry of sadness from the farmer's sister. It took three KPA personnel to restrain her from throwing a hit at the captain. Luckily for her, he was in a merciful mood and gave her a warning, followed by a backhand across her face. If that man was anything, he was cruel. That was the one word I would use to describe him. In addition to that, he was very demanding and did anything to impress his superiors. He had led several raids across the USA, and had been responsible for at least three hundred deaths alone. Today was the third execution this month by him, and the fourth altogether. The one not by him was by a firing squad, since it was from multiple people. I could swear that he actually enjoyed the executions. He was present for every one of them, and led all of them as well. As soon as the rally had finished, I had rushed home, with Marcus following me. My parents took their time, and didn't act very suspicious of us.

Marcus paced back and forth across the foot of my bed, and I laid there, staring up at the white ceiling fan as it slowly spun. It was somewhat hypnotizing, and I could not take my eyes from it.

"This is useless. It's only a matter of time before-"

"Keep your voice down!" I hissed at him and quickly looked at the door. No one came through, kicking it down, so we were lucky. Both my parents were inside, somewhere downstairs. But who knew if they were right outside that one barrier.

"Sorry." He sighed, then sat himself down just beyond my feet. "We should have run away when we had the chance." It had always been his plan to run away from this cursed place. I had always disagreed with it, knowing my parents would never come with us. But now the idea didn't seem so bad. I put on a frown, my mind fighting itself on whether we should. It started to hurt my head, and so I sat up and gave it a shake to clear my mind.

"What are we going to do, Mark?" I asked, using his nickname. He shrugged, holding a hand to his face. There was a heavy sigh, making sound like the room was breathing, then he lifted his head up, with a grin.

"We get rid of the evidence." My brows knitted into a confused look. "We get rid of Tom." My eyes looked about ready to pop out. I knew what he meant. He was talking about murder.

"No, we can't! That would get us into more trouble!" His grin didn't disappear. I knew I hadn't convinced otherwise. But I had to try. "Think about his family! Think about our families!"

"They'll be fine. But if we don't, they might get arrested for harboring criminals. For harboring us. Then we'll all be in the shit." So that's what we were then. Criminals. I didn't want to think of it that, but it was far too late for that. Because it was the truth. If we were...no, when we were caught, it would be the firing squad for us both.

"If we go with your dumb plan, they'll be in even more trouble! We'll all d-" I halted my words when I looked out the window. I was frozen with fear. Marcus gave me a weird look, then followed my gaze.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. I would have done the same if I wasn't petrified by fear. Because coming up the path was a squad of five soldiers, one being a captain. And in each hand was a pair of cuffs. We had waited too long. Then we heard it, at the front door as it echoed through the house. The knock of death.

* * *

We were led to the platform in front of City Hall. The cuffs were cold against my skin on my wrists. I had surrendered myself when they came without a fuss, but Marcus had put up a fight, and he was bruised from top to bottom. Even his nose was bleeding. From where I kneeled, I spotted my mother crying. I felt her pain and could feel tears of my own. But I managed to send a reassuring smile towards them. Marcus's brother was standing towards the back, shrouded in the night's darkness.

"People of Chester! The vandals have been found!" the captain announced, presenting us the crowd. There was no cheering from the townspeople. "And the one we shall congratulate...is Thomas Lyons!" He stepped forward, looking proud as if he had just become the richest man ever. Marcus started struggling against his captors, shouting curses and swears at the snitch. I only glared at him.

"You bastard!" Someone yelled. I knew the voice belonged to Marcus's brother.

"He is a hero to the KPA, and is the perfect aspect of a citizen of the KPA" Hyun Min praised him, ignoring the remarks against him. I knew he didn't mean a word of it. He just wanted to watch our heads get blown off.

"Traitor!" Another voice shouted.

"And now, we all know the punishment. And these traitors shall be dealt with!" With a nod, two guards came to our fronts, holding rifles to their shoulders and having them angled down at us. "Fire!" That was the last I heard, before the big bang.


	3. Arc I: Spared

_They say that death by a bullet to the head is quick and painless. I thought I would find out that day. But I had been spared. Saved from what I believed to be the inevitable. And at the time, I had felt lucky. But now, I never will._

* * *

 **Chester, Pennsylvania, 16:09 4th March 2037**

* * *

I expected to see a flash of black when the bang rang in my ears like a bell. But I still saw the ground before my eyes, and my knees. That meant that the bang hadn't come from the rifles. I lifted my head just enough to see the chaos in front of me. People were running and screaming, and there was indistinct shouting. I looked off into the distance and saw smoke rising from the outer wall. I felt more fear then ever before, alongside confusion. My adrenaline was pumping, and my legs begged me to move and run. A familiar voice beside me stopped me from doing so.

"Jason!" I turned my head wildly, my eyes still wide with surprise and confusion to see Marcus shouting to me. "We need to go! Now, while they aren't looking!" He stood and ran, his hands still cuffed at the front. I knew how brave he was, but for some unknown reason, I found him to be very calm. I was frozen for a second, then I tried to run, forgetting I was kneeling on the ground. I fell forward flat on my face and sprawled out. It took a few seconds to recollect myself, then I ran, following the same path Marcus took.

I bolted off the stage, my eyes darting around. The KPA took no notice of me, and were focused on rounding everyone else up. I didn't care about that though, or at least my legs didn't. They did not stop for a moment, or even to take a breather. That wasn't until I reached the safety of the alleyways. I looked one way, then the other. I had lost the guards. But I had also lost Marcus. I stumbled over and rested my back against the brick wall behind me, holding myself up on my knees with my palms. My heart was racing, and I could hardly breathe. I thought I would pass out right there from exhaustion.

"Dammit" I silently cursed as I heard footsteps coming by. I leaped to the dumpster across from me and hid on the side. I couldn't see who it was, but I heard their heavy footsteps. It sounded like they had boots, so I knew it wasn't Marcus. He wore worn sneakers. I waited until I was sure they were gone, then ran the opposite way, deeper into the darkness of the night. I stopped a few more times to find my way and catch my breath. Soon, the alleys came to an end. I quickly poked my head into the street. I recognized it as a town close to the center, so I hadn't gotten far. It was clear from any movement. That meant that either no one must have made this far, or they had already gotten further. So I took my chance, and ran across. I reached halfway across when I heard a voice that struck fear in me.

"You! Stop!" I stopped where I was, and saw a bright light coming towards me from the right. I was frozen to the spot as it came closer. I knew it was a flashlight, and as it came closer, I saw a dark silhouette in it.

"What are you doing?" A little voice in my head asked. "Get over here." I was suddenly confused. What did my brain just say? Get over where? That's when I realized that it had come from my prior destination. I had to squint to see the shape of a man in the darkness. "You wanna be caught?" I didn't answer, and instead ran over to him. We both hid as the soldier passed, and as it turned out, he was chasing someone else. Once they were gone, my savior leaned to the side and scanned the street.

Now that I had a closer look at him, he was an older man, at least in his fifties. His forehead had a mass of wrinkles lining it, as did his cheeks. His chin had a small stubble of black hair with a mix of grey. On his head he had a baseball cap, hiding his hair. His clothing consisted of a green camouflage jacket and cargo pants. He reminded me a lot of a homeless old man who used to come by, and my mother always helped him. He used to tell me stories of the world before the occupation. Most of it I never believed. He once told me about native tribes who used to live here, but I never believed. He never got to finish though, because he was executed the day after.

"Thanks for saving me." He didn't answer me, and only looked me in the eyes with his own one eye. After half a minute of silence, he spoke.

"What were ya thinking, standing there like daft gimp! You could've been killed!" he scolded me, and I noticed his Irish accent. I looked at the ground in shame after he finished. He was right, I had been stupid. "We'd better get. They are comin for us." He charged into the darkness, and I waited, thinking of what to do. I chose to follow, and luckily for me, he hadn't gotten too far.

I wanted to say 'thanks' again, but kept my mouth shut. We traversed more another maze of quick turns and dark alleys, occasionally hiding. I asked not a single question, for I believed he would not answer. However, a while on, I felt the need to get some answers.

"Do you know what the hell is going on?" I asked, my sense and my old self starting to come back. But I was still scared of being caught, and that added a little shake to my voice. He didn't answer at first, and gave a signal to stop. I stopped, almost walking right into his back and falling on him, then a KPA truck passed by. I hadn't heard gunfire for a while now, so it must have meant that the battle was over. I looked up at the sky, and guessed it had been about fifteen or twenty minutes since I had escaped from the chaos. Once it was out of sight, he opened his mouth to speak.

"We...we're rescuing you. So stay close!" he said, though it sounded more like an order with his gruff tone of voice. And the pause didn't make me so sure of his word. I nodded and when he began moving forward, I was right on his back. I hadn't figured it out until he told me that they were 'rescuing' us. He was a rebel. And the attack had been by the Resistance.

I was about to shout out in gratitude for coming, because I had always hoped they would come, but I held my words back when we heard something behind us.

"Run!" was the next thing he shouted, and we both bolted onto the road as two soldiers tailed us. We narrowly missed a truck, and it stopped behind us. Next thing that happened, we heard shouts behind us, and several clicks as they readied their weapons. "Get down!" the old man ordered as he reached down to his side. That's when I noticed the pistol.

I had only seen that type of pistol a few times. It was a Colt M1911. Marcus's brother had told him about it once or twice, among other old weapons. It's black metal shell glinted in their flashlights that shone towards us. There was a dark look in his eye as he drew it, then he fired it, his face now expressionless. The bang filled my ears, and did not seem to leave them. I thought I had become deaf, and as it left, it came again as another bullet left the barrel to lodge into a soldiers leg. I heard their cry of agony, and did not stop as they began to fire back.

We turned a corner with them still chasing us, and before they rounded it, I was pulled into an open doorway. The rebel pulled me back to the lounge room of the empty building and forced me to kneel down into cover. The KPA passed us by without giving a single glance towards the building. I was about to stand, but he held me down.

"Stay down" he instructed quietly, pointing to the window. I followed his still finger to the window. I felt thankful once more as one more passed by. But this one did not follow the others. This one instead stepped inside, rifle in hand. One move as we would be dead. Holding my breath, I peeked over the top of the lounge. And I picked a bad time. His light swept over and spotted my eyes. But he must not have seen them because it kept going. Eventually, he turned and left. I sighed with relief, air flowing back into my lungs. The rebel, however, stayed frozen. His face hadn't changed a bit. It was still that cold, emotionless face it was before. In a way, it worried me. He reminded me of a killer, a man with no remorse. A killer...like Hyun Min.

I suddenly fell back in surprise and fear as the man's face changed to the captain's, a cruel and sadistic grin on his face. His eyes went right through me, staring at my soul and instilling fear in me. In his eyes, I could see death. A gun to my back, and a bullet coming out of the other side.

"What's wrong with ya?" a voice asked. At that same moment, the face was replaced by the old rebel. I shook my head to clear it and attempted to stand up. Though before I got halfway up, he quickly pushed me down, then he raised his handgun and fired. My head turned left to see the same soldier from before. I watched his body go limp and fall to the ground. But at the same time, I heard an anguished cry above me, and watched the old man fall on his side, holding his leg. He muttered some profanity while he lay on his back, a hand on his wound and the other still holding his weapon.

"Oh shit" I murmured in shock of all that had happened in only a few seconds. I crawled over to him and felt sick as I saw his bubbling blood seeping through his fingers. "Uh...uh...what do I do?" I asked no one in particular in my panic. My question was answered by the man.

"Leave me." I wasn't sure if I had heard right, because it sounded like he wanted me to leave him.

"What?" I asked again.

"I said leave me, ya idiot!" he shouted at me. I wanted to leave, but my conscience decided against it. I realized that I couldn't leave him there. He had saved me, and now it was my turn to return the favor. And so I decided to save him. I pulled him up by his arm and hoisted him over my shoulder. He made no complaint, and only managed a small grunt. His arms dangled down, and he barely had his head raised. My plan was to carry him to safety. I guessed he would have others waiting for him, so all he had to do was guide me to them.

"Where do we go?" I asked him. He mumbled something, then repeated it.

"Th...the wall" he groaned, then went limp again. I didn't bother to talk back, because it seemed that he was out of it. I took it slow and steady, careful where I carried him and watched his head near walls. His blood trickled down and over my chest, so I placed a hand over the wound to try and stop the bleeding. The blood was wet and sticky against my palm, and my stomach tightened. But when I heard the indistinct shouting behind us, I picked up the pace. I rounded corners with ease, and soon reached an easily recognizable neighborhood. If I was right, there was a direct route to the wall where the explosion had happened, and started down the path. However, I stopped when he mumbled again.

"What?" I waited, and he soon answered.

"L..left. Go left." I nodded and turned left. The road led to the bakery close to my home, and I found myself at an intersection. "Right." I went right until I reached the end of the road again. "Right, then...then left." I followed his directions for a few more turns. It wasn't until I was close to a part of the wall when they caught up.

"Halt!" one of the guards shouted. I went to my left, narrowly dodging the hailfire behind us. I did not stop or slow down, knowing that death would catch to me if I did.

"Stop, or you will be shot!" Little bit too late for that, I thought to myself. Why did they even bother saying that if they were going to shoot me anyway. I kept on going until I was stopped by the wall in my way. And there was no opening.

"What? I thought you said to here?!" I claimed, feeling betrayed and defeated. I felt that this was the time to surrender, and turned around to face my fate. However, the old man raised a hand pointed to the wall.

"T..there." I followed his finger to see a door that seemed to be hidden in the wall. My hope was restored and I reached for the handle, then opened the metal door. Beyond was a black van. My legs carried me to it and moved my spare hand up to knock, only to find myself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

"Who are you?" the handler of the weapon asked. I dared not to look at them, afraid that if I moved, they would fire in an instant. But then, there was a gasp and the owner hopped out and looked at the man over my shoulder. "Dammit! What happened!"

"He was shot saving me" I answered. The person sighed.

"Get him inside. I'll cover you." I obeyed and stepped in, resting the old man on the floor of the back of the van. The person outside came in and closed it, then knocked on the metal separating us from the driver's seat. "Go!" There was a voice on the other side, and the vehicle began moving. I looked out of the window of the back doors and watched Chester disappear from sight, smoke still rising from the wall.

* * *

 **Hello readers! I hope you have enjoyed this story so far, because I plan for it to be my longest yet! So expect another chapter, and see you all then :)**


	4. Arc I: Saviors

_The first time I met that man, he scared me. He was so much of a killer, and he seemed to enjoy it. But now, I know him more. And I know myself more. Even though, I still question myself, and the killer inside me._

* * *

 **Chester, Pennsylvania, 16:34 4th March 2037**

* * *

The ride was bumpy. I couldn't sit still, and my legs and arms were constantly shaking. I could barely keep my own hands against the old man's wound like the other passenger had told me to. I could tell that the other man was a rebel as well, just by looking at him. he had an attire that was very similar to the injured man that lay before me, minus the hat. Instead, he had a skullcap over his head, strands of auburn hair hanging down just above his green eyes. His clothing was a darker shade than the old man's, and his under shirt and trousers were a dark brown. In his hands, he had a standard M4 assault rifle with two magazines taped to each other. He sat with his legs folded beneath him so the back of his boots were touching his lower back.

He reached into his pack and retrieved a rolled up bandage. I watched him unroll it to a suitable length, then use a small, sharp knife to roughly cut through the fabric.

"Hold his leg" he instructed calmly, pointing to a point of his leg above the wound. I placed my hands on it, trying to will them to stop shaking. The injured groaned in pain, still muttering swears and insults. It seemed he was delirious from blood loss. Or it just his way of coping. Either way, it wasn't helping. With one slow movement, the auburn-haired man lifted his leg and wrapped the white fabric carefully. He stopped after three cycles around his leg, and slowly lowered the leg back down before sighing with relief. "Thanks."

I merely nodded, still staring at the blood on my hands. I had blood staining my clothes ,and for the first time, it wasn't mine. I felt a firm grip on my shoulder and looked up.

"You did good. He'll live." I moved my head again, then looked back down at my hands. I must have stared at them for hours, for I had lost track of time when I felt it stop. There was a knock on the door, and the man slid it open, revealing a young woman.

She had her black hair in a ponytail that hung down halfway down her back and was braided all the way down. Her hair ran through the back of her green baseball cap. A green vest covered a camouflaged long-sleeve shirt and she wore green camo pants to match. Her eyes were really similar to the old mans. I wondered if they were related at all. She had a hand on her hip, the other on the door, and a glad smile on her face as she saw the man next to me.

"Good to see you made it-" she stopped as her eyes fell upon the older man. She fell to his side, and it seemed that she was angry. "Why'd you have to get yourself shot up?!"

He mumbled something back, trying to move his head.

"It's not too bad. This young man here saved him" he stated, gesturing to me. She gave me her attention for a small moment, then looked down at the injured rebel.

"Seriously. You had to have a kid save your ass?" I felt insulted by the statement. She had basically called me a useless boy. I glared at her. She glared back when she caught onto it. It took the other rebel and all of my willpower to withdraw from the hateful stare.

"Lydia, stop it! Leave him alone! He's been through enough!" he snapped, staring at us both with disappointment in his eyes. I couldn't help but feel even more guilt. The woman, Lydia, turned her head and upturned her nose, avoiding eye contact altogether. She folded her arms and crossed her legs that hung over the side of the van entrance. And soon, I noticed a sign of despair in her eyes. And the anger remained, as well.

"Fine. I'll meet you at camp." She stormed out of the van, and once again, the man sighed. But this time it was of hopelessness.

"I swear, she is sometimes so much like her father" he muttered, shaking his head with a palm against his forehead. I pondered of what he meant, then looked at the older man. I guessed that their my suspicions were true, yet said nothing. He removed his hand from his face and placed it on the floor in front of him. "That was Lydia, in case you were wondering. Mathias's daughter." He received a confused look from me, and rolled his eyes. "Of course he didn't tell you his name." He hesitated on his words, then added, "The guy you saved." My mouth formed an 'o' as I knew what he meant. My eyes went to Mathias. Now that i knew his name, I would be able to thank him when he woke up. If he woke up. My mind went back to dark thoughts about death. Almost being executed. Picturing myself in the place of the thief earlier that day. It made me shudder. "Get some rest. It's still a long while till we get there." I nodded shakily, and laid myself down on my seat, the metal cold against my skin. Then, I fell asleep.

* * *

 **Man's POV**

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The young boy had been through a lot. I could tell just by looking at him. He must have been at least in his late teens, possibly nearing adulthood. It showed me how cruel the KPA can be. I'd seen kids much younger than him watching their own families be killed, or being killed themselves. I'd seen the mass graves. Just low pits where they dump the corpses. Corpses of children, men and women. All innocent. My teeth began to grind against each other as I recalled all of those moments where the enemy was at it's worst. Where I had seen their true side. And soon, the boy will too. It seemed that he did not fully understand what they were capable of. Perhaps he would question him about it later. But for now, he would let him rest.

I leaned to the front of the van and pulled on the latch, opening the small grate window separating me from the driver. I barely saw him, only his black jacket and bald head in my sight.

"How far?" I asked. The driver shrugged without turning his head to acknowledge me. I rolled my eyes and closed it back up, sitting back with my arms crossed. I scratched at the hair beneath my skullcap, which began to irritate my scalp. My eyes moved to Mathias. I knew he was a good man, and had known him since this all started. And when his daughter came along, there was no need for second guesses. I knew right there and then that they were related, whether she liked it or not. She was just as stubborn and rude, but never mentioned her relationship with him. He once told me that he had left them to help another resistance group, and when he returned, they were gone. That may have explained why her accent was British instead of Irish, because her mother was British. And no matter how much Mathias tried to convince her she was part Irish, she preferred the British. And so did I. After a while, it begins to get on your nerves. Trust me, I would know after stuck with the drunk one. He was always cursing, and it became more frequent when he was drunk. And that too was frequent. If it wasn't for the leg wound, I would have assumed he had stopped off at the bar. He had a low tolerance for alcohol, so all it took was two jugs and he was as tipsy as a dinghy in a hurricane.

It was awfully quiet, so I decided to let base camp know of our situation. Pulling out the long distance radio, I started turning knobs and pushing buttons to get on the correct frequency. At first, there was nothing. Then it crackled to life, and I could hear a faint voice.

"Yes? Who's there?" the cautious voice asked. I knew right away who it was.

"It's me." There was a cry of relief from the feminine voice on the other end. My head moved away from the radio, my face cringing from the screech that entered my ear. I still could hear it after, as clear as the ringing of church bells. When I neared the radio again, I could hear babbling on the other end.

"...you were dead! It's been at least three hours, and you never called! Not even once! We were so worried and..and-" Her constant whining was already taking it's toll on me, adding to the pain in my ears. I had to stop her.

"Stop! Jill, we're fine, okay!" After took a breath in, then a slow breath out before returning to a calm state. "Now, I was calling to tell you that we are on our way back. We've picked up a couple of civilians, but Mathias..he took a hit-"

"WHAT?!" Once again, I had to cover the radio with my spare hand and throw my head back from the wailing on the other end, this time hitting the metal frame of the van. I rubbed my head, silently cursed then listened to the communication device. And once again, she had begun babbling on. "..leave it to him to be the one getting hurt! You just had to let him out on his own, didn't you?! I thought you should all go in pairs, but no! You think it might be better to each go alone!" The rest of it was quiet as I turned down the volume on it. Pinching the bridge of nose, I held my head low and shook it slowly, groaning in despair, wishing for her to stop. She went on for a whole minute before I decided to listen in. "Hello?! Are you even there?! Don't tell me you're dead!"

"We're fine!" I answered quickly, not wanting her to go on ranting again. "But I have to go. We're about to go through a tunnel."

"Tunnel? There's no tunnels. What are you- No! Don't you dare-" It was too late as I switched it off. And for extra measures, pulled out the batteries. The van was once again filled with silence. And this time, it felt good. My mind had quieted down, and I was peace. And it all disappeared when Mathias started snoring.

"God dammit! What does it take to get some peace around here?" I exclaimed, earning a light-hearted chuckle from the driver's seat.

* * *

 **Jason's POV**

* * *

I expected that after my long sleep, I would feel refreshed. But I was very much the opposite. I dreamt that Chester was burning. Fire dropped from the sky in bombs, and the roar of gunfire and the deafening screams filled my head. I could only stand and watch, paralyzed as my parents were turned to ash before me. The last I remembered was the infamous captain marching towards me at a slow pace, then drawing his weapon on me. And the whole time, he smiled.

I had woken to find we had stopped again, and the door was open. The old Irish man was gone, as was the other man. I could hear indistinct voices not too far away, and one of them sounded angry. I dared to peek outside and saw that we were in a large warehouse. I found the younger man, and a woman. It was not the same woman I had seen before, though. Her figure was short and plump, and she was red-faced, which made her look extremely mean, her skin heavy with freckles. She had short hair carrot-orange hair with a long fringe at the front. Her short fingers barely poked out from her finger less gloves. She had khaki pants and a denim vest with cut off sleeves, a long sleeve undershirt covering her arms.

"I warned you to be careful! And this is what happens!" she scolded him, jabbing her fingers at him in an accusing way. He was about to make a remark back when he saw me, and stopped short.

"Excuse me, but our new guest is awake." She looked over to me and put on a wide smile.

"So that's the cutie that saved that jerk?" I already felt a blush by how she addressed me. Now I know who to thank for bringing him back." With another frown at him, she stomped off. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before turning to me.

"Thanks for that. I'm not sure what she would have done had you come any later. She's got a mean temper, but she's a gentle soul. Cares for all of us." I nodded slowly as I watched her in the distance. She reminded me of my mother when it was her time. I did not like to think on it. "So anyway, how was you sleep?" I shrugged. I wanted to tell him about my dream, but decided against it, and kept it to myself. "Okay then." There was an awkward silence, then his eyes gleamed for a second. "How about you see the others we rescued. You might know some." I shook my head enthusiastically, wanting to know if my parents had made it. Perhaps they were there, or maybe even Marcus. "Let's go then. Follow me." I followed him closely. We went across to a pickup truck, and behind was a group of people.

"Where are they going?" I asked.

"They're the others we rescued. We won't force them to say, so we are sending them to a safer place. Go on and see, I'll wait here." I darted to the group and looked at them one by one. Unfortunately, none were my parents or friends. One of them I recognized as the farmer's wife, but no one else. However ,they recognized. I could hear their whispers and murmurs behind me, possibly accusing me of things that had happened. With my head hung low on my shoulders and my shoulders slumped, I felt no hope and moped back to the man. "Any luck?" I shook my head, my eyes heavy with misery and despair. He placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke calmly, his words pushing the sadness back, "We'll save the rest. I promise." That lifted my hopes a bit, and brought a small smile to my face. "Let's get going. I think someone would like to thank you." With a hand on my back, he urged me forward to walk with him. I went with him willingly, wanting to get as far as I could from the other's accusing looks.

I was led past many rooms, some of them open. I glanced in each of them, catching glimpses of weapons, crates, beds and some other things. One of them was a room full of posters that I would rather not to have seen. They sent tingles up my spine, and my eyes went wide until we passed them. The man only kept his eyes forward until we came to another door with someone sitting outside of it.

"How is he?" the rebel asked. The man at the door looked up with tired eyes.

"He's good. If you want to see him, he's awake." The man with me nodded and we both went in. I found Mathias laying on a bed, his leg heavily bandaged. His eyes were droopy, but open.

"Wyatt! Greatter see yer!" he tried to yell, but it came out in a hoarse whisper. His eyes fell on me, and I expected his smile to fade. But in fact, it grew. "An' de fella who saved me arse. I 'av yer ter thank." He waved me over, and i obliged by sitting down in the chair next to the bed. He patted me on the arm, rather hard for what I expected, and grinned. "You'll be useful ter us, naw doubt. don't ye tink, Wyatt?" Wyatt shrugged, but his eyes and face said yes. Though I had to wonder what they meant.

"Ummm, what's he mean?" I asked. Before either could answer, a cold voice did it for them.

"It means they want you to join, idiot." I would have jumped if I was in Wyatt's position, because right beside him was the daughter of Mathias, Lydia.

"Watch yer gob, young lady. Tis man saved me life" Mathias growled at her. She glared at me and him, gritting her teeth. She crossed her arms and walked over, standing over both of us and blocking the light from me, casting me into her shadow. I shrunk back, but Mathias held his ground.

"Does it look like I care? Now I have to deal with you longer." Mathias strained himself to try and get up, but grunted in pain and laid back down.

"Lydia!" Wyatt called for her attention, and she faced him, her face lightening slightly. "Outside. Now." She paused, glaring back at me and her father, then turned and left. "I'll only be a second" Wyatt said politely, then left, closing the door behind him. I raised a brow. Mathias noticed it.

"I know, 'tis weird, innit? She acts as if 'e's 'er ol dad. Always looks up ter 'im." I sensed a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Ye'd best be aff whaen he comes back. Ask 'im for your quarters." I nodded, and when Wyatt returned, I asked. His stern face washed away and was replaced with the calm look.

"Of course." We started for the door, and he called back over his shoulder, "I'll be back soon, friend." Mathias muttered something, and I no longer could see or hear him as we went down the hall. A few doors down and we came to another room. Wyatt pushed the door open, revealing an almost empty room with two bunks. The grey concrete walls were bare, and one chest of drawers sat between the bunks. "That's mine on the left. You're free to choose from the bottom of mine or your own. I'll return soon." He left me to myself in the room. I decided to have one to myself and laid down on the bottom. Before I knew it, I had drifted off into another deep sleep.

* * *

 **And that's another chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed, and stay tuned for the next one. See you all later :)**


	5. Arc I: First Shot

_In life, there's a first time for everything. Some of it good, some of it bad, and some of it is somewhere in the middle. At first, you are scared. But soon, you become a master at it._

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 **Pennsylvanian Country, 08:34 5th March 2037 Wyatt's POV**

* * *

I dug my spoon in and took out another mouthful of beans from the can I used as my bowl. The sauce was a bit thick for me, and the beans seemed a bit under cooked, but it was good enough to satisfy my growing hunger. The cooking fire kept me warm, but the warmth was unnecessary as the outside was already hot. That's why today I was going to stay inside. I heard shuffling behind me and found a sleepy Jill enter behind me. She still had her purple gown on and slippers. Out of all of us, she still preferred to live in luxury.

"Good afternoon, milady" I greeted in a teasing manner. It was actually morning, but the day before I had messed with her alarm. So on her clock, it was three in the afternoon.

"Shut it!" she snapped, glaring daggers at me. "Someone messed with my alarm. And I can guess who." I forced a smile, hiding my nervous features.

"And who, may I ask, was that?" I held my innocent smile, holding back a chuckle as I examined her tired frown, her eyes half-closed. Her glare hardened towards me.

"Don't be a smartass, _Maddy_! I know you did it!" She smirked as she purred my nickname. I unwillingly let out a growl, and her grin widened. Everyone knew I hated the use of my middle name. If Mathias hadn't always been so drunk, he might have been able to keep the secret. Now, if anyone wanted me angry, all they had to do was mention it once.

I set the empty can down calmly and placed my hands on my knees, arching my back forward with my eyes on the ground. Then a small smirk appeared. "That's what you get for being angry at me, sugar plum." She went as red as a tomato as I used her nickname. And it soon went purple, like a plum. I grinned, seeing my plan work. So I went on, "What's the matter? You look like a grape." Her eyes almost popped out of her head, and she held a fist up at me. But before she could do anything, she released a deep breath and while she still glared at me, she exited the room. I didn't wait for her to leave when I started laughing. I certainly showed her not to mess with me. Picking the tin back up, I began quietly eating again.

I finished with my beans soon after, and plopped the can next to the fire with the spoon still in it before standing and stretching my legs. It didn't take long, and then I decided to go and see how the boy was coping. I expected him to be in my room, on his bunk, so I began to make my way there.

* * *

 **Jason's POV**

* * *

When I finally woke up, the room was cold and gloomy I only had a thin sheet covering me, which was less than what was on my bed back home. The plain concrete walls were on either side. I heard a quiet hiss in the air, and that's when I noticed for the first time a vent above the door. That explained why it was cold, but why did they have the air conditioner on? There was no need for it. Or so I thought. I decided that it was time to leave the room and sat up, bumping my head on the top bunk.

"Ow" I muttered quietly as I rubbed my sore head. I stood up, carefully avoiding the top bunk. My feet felt cool in my socks against the floor, and I hurried myself to get my shoes on. After a minute of tying the laces, which was frustrating with the short lengths of corded material. It was only a few steps before I was out of the room, standing in the long hall. Recalling how I got here, I went to the right, wanting to find Wyatt. Hopefully he would show me around, although I still wasn't certain on whether I wanted to stay or not. I felt that I should have, but at the same time, I was afraid of what would come if I did. I might be forced to kill, or be killed. The thought made me shudder. I hated the KPA like anyone else, but I would never kill.

I took several turns, passing many rooms. I dared not look in any of them, in respect of their privacy. I soon however came across a section of the building where someone had loud music playing. As I neared it, I heard a bang. I hurried for the double door, my curiosity now rising as I believed the bangs were gunshots. I was found to be right when I found someone in the large open space. Close to me, there was a length of small booths. At the far end, opposite of the small spaces were targets, full of holes. I found that the music was coming from one of the booths, and neared it cautiously. Once close enough, I found it to be the young daughter of Mathias. In her hands, Lydia held a handgun. I could see her back and a bit of her arms from the angle I was on. With no one else around, I believed this to be the best moment to see why she was so sour. But not up front.

"Um, hello?" I said. Either the music was too loud, or she chose to ignore me. I spoke again, this time a little louder. "Hello?" Once again, no response. So I resorted to taking a step closer and tapping her on the shoulder.

In an instant, she was upon me. She had her gun against my nose, with a hand on the grip with a finger beside the trigger and the other hand along the bottom of the handle. Her eyes were locked with mine, glaring daggers at them, and her face was hardened with annoyance and determination. Her weapon did not shake at all as she held it towards me. Now I could see her front. Her black t-shirt had in large white writing 'AC/DC' and she had faded jeans.

"Don't" she hissed towards me. I was frozen with my hand still stretched at her. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that she would have shot me. And at the time, I hadn't. I felt my knees banging against each other as they shook uncontrollably. The only sound was the rock song that filled the area. "If I were you, I'd be running." I wanted to, but my legs were stuck to the ground. She smirked, thinking that I must have been either really brave, or really stupid. I believed myself to be the latter. I finally found the courage to speak, but I was as quiet as a mouse.

"S-sorry" I squeaked. Though I didn't notice the strange tone I had, for I only focused on the weapon she held and could barely hear it over the blaring music from the stereo. At any second, she could have pulled the trigger. Her eyes closed halfway, her glare becoming more directed. I shrunk back, daring to move as I put a foot back. The whole time, I kept on an apologetic look, putting my hands up slowly to show I meant no harm. She didn't move an inch, but the weapon was always pointing at the same spot of my face. Right between my eyes. I was so afraid of the weapon that I hadn't noticed a third person enter the large space.

"Lydia!" a commanding voice shouted. She turned her head right away, withdrawing her weapon obediently. I turned my head as well, but at a slower pace, and only when my head was fully around did I rest my eyes on Wyatt. He had his arms crossed and stood in the middle of the doorway. "He meant no harm" he said calmly. She nodded and returned to her previous activity without giving me a single look. Wyatt, however, strode over to me and took me by the shoulder. He added a little force, which he hadn't done before. I willfully followed, still a bit anxious to leave the place. Once we were gone, he opened his mouth to speak again, "I hope you don't do that again. She does not like to be touched. And I'm quite surprised really" he began with a surprised tone of voice. How he said it sent shivers up my spine.

"What do you mean?" I asked once the shakes were gone from my voice. He looked down at me with a quirked brow.

"Well, the last person who got close to her got a broken nose. And he hadn't even touched her. Only turned her radio off." I gulped, wondering what she would have done to me had Wyatt not intervened. "Yeah, he got pistol whipped in the face. Never went near her again" he said bluntly. I guessed my pupils had dilated in fear by then. I could have sworn that at any moment, my heart would have just stopped. "But don't worry. As long as you keep away, you have nothing to fear." That made me feel better, and I smiled a bit.

"So, what's with her anyway?" The way Wyatt's face turned dark didn't make me feel good at all. He was silent at first. That made me feel worse.

"She...doesn't like talking about it." There was a short pause. "But you deserve to know." He let out a sigh, then began, "Mathias told you how he left her as a child, right?" I nodded. He hadn't exactly told me, but I assumed that he had done something to cause her to be so sour. "Well, he didn't leave willingly. At the time, she was young. She didn't understand why her uncle and brother had left and never returned. And when he left, she thought that he had left them forever, just like they had. But in truth, he had joined a resistance group that had been captured."

"But he escaped, obviously. Didn't he return?"

"He did. But they had been forced to leave. They were heartbroken. And no one helped them as they were cast into the streets." I looked down with shame. I had guessed that she was one of those people that were always grumpy. Never did I think that anything like that had happened to her. Wyatt didn't stop there, and continued with her story. "It only got worse from there. Her mother became sick, and when Lydia reached the age of twelve, her mother died. She was left alone. I only found her half a year ago, and rescued her. So besides me, she hates everyone. That goes to show that some people will only care for themselves." The last bit had some hatred added to it. I couldn't imagine being alone for so long. But i could imagine being alone. For I had been there myself.

"That's..terrible" I remarked, my voice filled with sorrow. If only I had known. I felt sorry for her now. "No one should have to live alone for so long." He nodded, anguish remaining in his eyes.

We went on for a while until we came outside. Now I could understand why the air con had been on. The blaring sun was high up in the sky, it's heat radiating the landscape around us. I felt my skin warm up faster than what I preferred. I had to cast a hand over my eyes to keep the blinding light from my eyes. Wyatt did the same. I could soon see when my sight came into focus. The warehouse had been built in a large field with a forest surrounding it. A few trees dotted the field. The grass was a dark green, much like the leaves on the trees. In some areas, the grass was tall enough to reach my chest. I could hear the chirping of birds. Birds I had never heard before. There was sweet smell that filled the air, and the moist touch of the damp wind. Most of this was new to me, and it was very beautiful, and filled my heart with warmth. It was much better than my old home, with KPA patrols constantly and rubbish lying all over the place, as well as barbed fences blocking off most areas and the common checkpoint gate. I was so deep in a trance that I hadn't noticed Wyatt calling my name until he gave me a tap. My smile grew. My eyes were filled with bewilderment.

"Never been outside?" My smile stayed, even though I felt some sadness, and I shook my head. I believed a place existed outside the wall, but not so lush green as this countryside was. I wished my parents could see this now, but then realized that they must have. I even snickered a bit at how Marcus was missing this. And all the other kids. And at the same time, I felt pity for them. But there was nothing I could do for them. Not now. "That must suck" he mumbled to himself, bringing me out of my trance again.

"Yeah. It sure does" I answered without giving him a single glance. He chuckled to himself and strolled past me. I followed behind him closely, taking in everything I could in wonder. I halted myself before I walked into him. He stood with both hands locked together behind his back. I leaned to the side and looked past him to find an area similar to the one Lydia was in. Wyatt gave me a nudge, and I noticed that he held something in his right hand. He held a pistol that looked very similar to the one Lydia had been using, except a darker shade.

"This is a Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol" he stated plainly, holding the handle towards me with his hand on the barrel. I was hesitant until he started to wave it before my hand, so slowly I gripped the handle of it. When he let go, I felt the full weight and quickly moved a second hand to it. For some unknown reason, it felt comfortable in seconds when I expected it to feel weird. He arched his brow curiously. "You held a gun before?" I shook my head. "Then you are a natural. Now let's see how you shoot with one." My mouth fell agape as I stared at him in disbelief.

"I-I-I can't-"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't hurt yourself. Too much." I felt my muscles tighten at his last words. But he was joking, right? I was soon going to find out. I followed him over to the target range. Like the other, it was empty. "Now, level your weapon like this" he instructed, holding his own weapon and straightening out his top arm. The arm that held the bottom of the weapon was bent at the elbow slightly. I copied his movements. "Now, aim down the sight. Here." He patted the top where there was a two small iron bits poking up from the rear of the weapon. There was a third bit further along the weapon. "Now comes the tricky part. Place your index finger against the lever" he rested his on it. I did the same. "...and pull." He pulled it, and I flinched when there was a loud bang. He was still staring along the top of the barrel. He moved his eyes on me with an expecting look.

"Okay. Here it goes." I pulled softly at first. I was actually scared of what might happen if I did. I thought I wouldn't do it until he faked a cough. I flinched again and closed my eyes, and the gun was flicked back from the recoil. When I opened them, Wyatt looked bewildered, staring ahead. When I followed his gaze. I too was amazed. The bullet had gone on a straight path...and hit just to the right of the center dot. He licked his lips, still staring.

"Well...that was something. Never have I ever seen a person's first shot hit that close. Except Lydia. She hit dead center. But even still, you've got talent." I couldn't say a word. My finger had this weird sensation, and started to feel twitchy. Wyatt must have noticed it, because he carefully took my hands from the weapon and put it on a nearby table which had other weapons and ammunition laying on it. "That's enough for today. How about we grab something to eat, okay?" I went with him without a simple gesture, still feeling the weight in my hands. I never told him it was simple luck

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 **Wyatt POV**

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The boy really was something. I didn't expect much from him, so when I faked that cough, I expected to see the mark hit off the target. But when I had looked, I was more than amazed when I caught sight of the dark circle in the haystack, just off to the side of the middle. I could see that he was just as amazed, perhaps more. But he also had a twitchy finger. And they could be dangerous if someone became too twitchy. So tomorrow, I would help him with the problem. But for now, he deserved a break.

To be truthful, before he had pulled that trigger, I was rather against him coming in. So young. My conversation with Mathias resurfaced to my mind;

 _"He's got potential. I saw it in his eyes."_

 _"No, Mathias! He's just a kid, he's been through enough..."_

 _"But we need more people. The KPA's hold on Chester is growing stronger. If we don't have more"_

 _"More what? More soldiers?"_

 _"I was going to say more supporters...He doesn't have to go out on the field. Like Jill."_

I remember having been hesitant at that moment. He'd convinced me there, we could have used more help. And he did help in saving Mathias from blood loss. And even though the other half of my mind argued against it, I wanted to see what he was made of.

We came to the mess hall, and there were few people there. I waved a hand at them, and they waved back. Some of them even gave me a little salute. Although I didn't show it, it bothered me a little. I never saw myself as above someone else, and to me, that was sign of respect to someone higher than you. I saw all of us as equals. I sat Jason at a table close to the middle of the room and sauntered over to the counter. The cook came over, and who else would it be, but Jill.

"Hello there." She shot me a cold glare. "Some beans for me. And get the boy something good. He's earned it" I requested with a smirk, eyeing Jason. She nodded and took her time. I could tell she was angry at me. "Look, I'm sorry for before. You just got me angry after using that name. Shall we forgive each other?" I stretched out a hand. She thought about it, then accepted. But before I could leave, she pulled me closer, a gleam in her eye.

"You have kitchen duty tomorrow. All day" she growled, emphasizing the last part. I nodded nervously then took the two trays. I set Jason's down, and he looked amazed once more. After the first spoonful, he was digging in. I guessed that it was because he hadn't had spaghetti and meatballs before. I snickered at his reaction to the food, and at the same time, felt pity for him and everyone else his age. Most would have lived in placed like his home, and would have never experienced food and leisure such as this.

"You like it?" He looked up, swallowed his food and nodded.

"This is _really_ good. What is this?" I felt more pity. He didn't know what it was called. Had he ever seen pasta before? Perhaps he hadn't. But he must have tasted meat before. At least tomatoes.

"It's called spaghetti and meatballs." He stared at the food, repeating the name a few times before beginning to eat again. I took a spoonful of my own food, but not too much. I had had some not too long ago. I said nothing about that fact that the food had been stolen from a convoy transporting food for the KPA forces occupying Chester.

The boy reminded me so much of someone I once new a while back. He reminded me of myself. And maybe, just maybe, I'd make a rebel out of him. Really soon. Thinking over the thought, I drifted back to when I had first seen Lydia. She was thin, and I had found her scrounging around alleys for food. I had come to her, and her response to me was a knife to my arm. But even still, I gave her my food and water. I then offered her a place to stay. At first, she had been cautious. I could still remember those little, scared eyes. And once she took my hand, I could see the relief as I gave her my coat. She had tried to smile. I knew there that she hadn't smiled in a long time. That's what war does to you. You forge to smile. Forget to feel the joy in life. And everyone turns on each other. Hopefully, this war would end before that happened everywhere. We were an image of hope for all. If only we could spread that hope. I pushed my tray away, suddenly full.

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 **That's another chapter of War For Freedom. In this story, I hope to be more interactive with you readers. So while this story goes on, I will put up votes and polls for things that will affect the story. So for now, see you later :)**


	6. Arc I: Recruitment

_In war, you are forced to do many things you never thought of doing. Everyone has a part to play. Even those unborn have a part to play in war. Whether it is to live a coward, or die a hero. To help one side, or destroy another. The hardest part in war isn't knowing your part. It's playing it out._

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 **Pennsylvanian Country, 10:36 9th March 2033, Jason's POV**

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I walked alone through the empty cold hallways. My skin had goosebumps on them. Today was an unusually cold day. But that might have been because I hadn't been outside yet. It always seemed cold inside the large warehouse. It had been a few days since I had arrived. Wyatt gave me lessons on a few things, and I enjoyed my little chats with Mathias. Earlier today, the others rescued from Chester had left. Lydia and two others had gone with them, and were supposed to be back in the late afternoon of tomorrow. It felt peaceful without the blaring rock music she always had on. Even Wyatt admitted that it sometimes got on his nerves.

I found the former in Mathias' room, sitting on the end of his bed. They were talking until the Irish man noticed me, and they both glanced over to me. I hadn't even had the chance to knock. Wyatt waved me over, and I stood before them with my hands in front of me, twiddling my thumbs nervously. The looks on their faces made me feel uncomfortable. They had hardened stares, but then I noticed that in their faces there was also a sense of appreciation.

"Um...hi" I piped up, feeling squeamish inside. Wyatt motioned to a seat across from his and on the other side of Mathias. I seated myself before they began to talk to me.

"Nice of you to drop by, Jason. We have something of importance to speak with you about" Wyatt started. I quirked a brow and started tapping my legs with my fingers. I felt very nervous for some reason. They wouldn't have sat here and waited if it was bad news. They would have come and told me that morning, so perhaps it was good news. But even still, their expressionless faces didn't give me much hope.

"W-what is it?" I unwillingly stuttered. Mathias let a light chuckle slip out from his tightly sealed lips.

"Nothin' to be worried about, young lad" The old man assured, placing a hand over mine to stop the shaking. His touch seemed fatherly, and for a moment, I saw my father. His graying black was replaced by short, dirty blonde strands of hair. His face became young, and his clothing changed to my father's uniform. His pale face brought out his blue eyes and his pointed nose.

"Hey, Jason! You still with us?" I was brought back and found them staring with odd looks.

"Sorry. Just..um...a little crazy memory. Please, continue."

"Thank you. Now, lately you have been showing us that you may yet be useful to our cause." I shot Wyatt a confused loo, though I had an idea where this was headed. "And me and Mathias, along with the others here, have been discussing...things about you." I nodded understandingly, even though I had no idea what they meant by _things_. "And after much thought, we have all agreed on our final decision. Well, except for one person, and it all depends on his decision." His stare seemed to focus more on me, and at that moment I knew that he meant that it was time for my decision. "Jason...will you join us?" he requested, reaching out with his open hand. At the time, I was very hesitant. Doing this may have meant that I would never see my family again. It may have meant that many lives would rest in my hands. It may have meant that I would be killed on the battlefield. And soon, I came to my decision. I took his hand, withdrawing slightly a couple of times.

"I will" I answered. He shook it, a smile crossing his features. Mathias had a proud grin across his, and once again, I saw my father.

"I knew ya would." Mathias spoke as his normal face returned. I showed off a nervous smile, and it must have seemed fake to them, because one of his brows arched. "Somethin' wrong, fella?"

"What? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong with me. I just...well, it's a bit all sudden, and I'm feeling a bit flustered by it. I mean, I never imagined that something like this would happen." Mathias smirked at my response, and placed a reassuring hand against my knee.

"No worries. I know how you feel. First time I ever joined a resistance group, I hesitated for a day before joinin' them. I thought about me family that whole day an' what would happen. Then, I thought about how it would help them. So I did it for them." His smile faded as he finished. I knew why, because Wyatt had told me all about it. He had left, and Lydia blamed for him it. But now, perhaps he would hear his side of it.

"What ever happened?" Mathias sighed, and then answered after a short pause.

"I was captured. I was forced to watch me friends die as they were each interrogated." I could swear that I had heard him growl like an animal. "I killed every single one of them fuckers in me escape. an' den, when I return. they're all gone. Me family..was all gone. I searched, and searched an' never found them." His face lightened up a bit as he continued, and I wondered why. "Den, I found Wyatt an' a couple of others. We began saving others, an' then two years ago, I found me little lassy. But yer can probably guess how that turned out." I nodded. Wyatt had told me how she had turned sour. And now, I was satisfied to finally know both sides, and I felt sympathy for him.

"That must have been bad." He shook his head in an agreeing motion. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's all gran so, laddy." He turned his head towards Wyatt. "Why don't you take him to meet the others? It would be a great experience." Wyatt glanced at me with a look that asked if I wanted to. I shrugged, though I did want to meet the others. Obviously, I knew there were others. But the question was about how many there were. And I was about to find out. Before we could leave, Wyatt was called back. "Oi! Can ya get me fuckin drink when ya get back?!" Wyatt rolled his eyes and led me out, and we both made way our way through the warehouse. We came to where the van I had come in was. The truck had gone, and I could hear a shrill, loud clanging, followed by a high-pitch screech. Under the van, I saw a burst of sparks fly out.

"Hank! HANK!" Wyatt shouted. The sounds stopped and the sparks stopped flying, and then a board came rolling out with a heavy build and heavily tanned skin laying down with his back against it. He had very light brown eyes, almost hazel, and a small stubble. Wyatt relaxed when he came out, lifting a hand to my shoulder. "This is the young man I told you about." The man, Hank, acknowledged me and walked over, then lifted his hammer at me. Obviously, I flinched. I thought he would hit me over the head! My hands flew up to protect my face, and expected to feel pain. But instead, I heard a cackle of laughter.

"No worries! I won't hurt ya, kid!" His accent was thick, yet I could not recognize it. It sounded southern, with a touch of...something else. Wyatt leaned down to my level as I stared in disbelief at the mechanic.

"He likes to joke." 'No kidding?' I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut. He straightened up as Hank finished with his loud chuckling. "You working on the van?" Hank turned away and looked at the white van with both arms crossed.

"Yep. It fine, ain't it?" I nodded, even though it wasn't directed to me. "See tha young lad got taste." He moved a hand to his chin and began rubbing his stubble with a thoughtful look. "Ya know anythin' on engines er mechanics?" Once again, someone brought something I had known nothing about. So I shrugged, and he frowned. "Well, worth a try. Now if ya'll excuse me, I got some work ta do." He shouldered his hammer and strolled back to the van to get back to work.

We began to head over to the next area where I would meet the next person I was to meet. On the way, my guide began talking about the previous meeting.

"That was Hank, our mechanic. He's from down south. Round Texas I think" he started, stating his name and what I guessed to be his position around here. I wondered for a moment what position I would be in. Wyatt continued on about Hank as I thought over it, "Though he doesn't only work on cars. He also works on other stuff, like fixing electronic systems and other things like that." Wyatt stopped outside a closed door, and inside, I could have sworn I heard a foreign voice. Wyatt rapped his knuckles against the door lightly, and then pushed it open. Inside, I found a middle-aged man.

His pinkish-white scalp was plain, with not a single hair in sight. By the tone of his skin, I assumed that he spent lots of time in the sun. In his rough and calloused hands, he held a book. Over his gray eyes were a pair of specs. He wore a black jacket over a grey shirt, grey cargo pants and hunting boots, which rested on a small coffee table in front of him. I looked around, and this was by far the best room I had seen. On one side, there was a brown bookcase with smooth wood, filled with books, each with foreign titles. His bed had a brown quilt over it, and the back of it made an arch. At the other end of the room, there was a painting stand with a canvas sitting on it, half completed.

The bald man lifted his head with his specs resting on the bridge of his nose and lowered his book to his lap, revealing a grey short-haired cat with black stripes laying on his legs, it's tail swinging back and forth. After a moment of silence, he closed his book and pushed himself up from his brown leather chair. Before long, he stood before me, and then he took my hand and shook it lightly. Surprisingly, he didn't have a tight grip, unlike everyone else.

"Dis must be young fellow I have heard so much about" he remarked. His voice was...well, not familiar to me. It definitely didn't sound American in any way. And his voice was heavy with it.

I nodded politely. He seemed to be a very joyful soul, unlike everyone else. And that was a good thing. "I'm Jason. You are?" I asked politely.

"Milomir Meshcheryakov. But you call me Milo, da?" I smiled awkwardly, since I had no idea what the last word meant. I just assumed he was asking if it was okay.

"Ah, yeah..sure." He grinned, then returned to his chair. He picked up his book and began reading again, before peering over the top at us, realizing we hadn't left.

"Off you go now." Wyatt rolled his eyes and left. But i stayed, still admiring the room. Milo must have noticed it, because of what he asked. "Like what you see?" I nodded. "Maybe you stay by some time. We talk a bit. It becomes lonely around here." I gave him a sympathetic look.

"I will. I promise" I replied before exiting and following Wyatt. After some fast walking, I finally caught up. We visited a couple of others, and I was surprised by how many there actually were here. On the way back to our quarters, I thought about how I had expected more. And now I could see what Milo meant. It did seem lonely. At that moment, I longed to be back in the town of Chester, surrounded by familiar faces. My thoughts were shattered when I heard Wyatt talking to me as I sat on my bunk.

"Guess what, kid? You're going on your first mission. Me and Milo are going out on patrol, and were thinking if you'd want to come. So do you?" I hesitated, excitement, as well as fear, easily visible on my features. This was my chance to show my worth. But on the other hand, it would be dangerous. Then again, everything I did was dangerous. "Don't worry, there shouldn't be much out there." That relieved me. So I nodded, and a wide smile spread across his face. "Thought you would. Let's do some last minute training." I leaped from my bunk, being careful not to hit my head on the bunk again, and followed him like an excited child following their parents to the shops.

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 **There's another chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and I also have my first vote- What do you think should happen on the patrol:**

 **A - They meet a KPA patrol**

 **B - They find another group of escaped refugees**

 **C - Nothing**

 **Leave you vote in a review or a PM. See you all in the next one. Bye :)**


	7. Arc I: Bad Run In

_First time you load and ready a gun, you feel scared. First time you fire a gun at a target, you feel a sudden thrill afterwards...First time you kill a man, you feel regret. And all this happens in only a few seconds._

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 **Pennsylvanian Country, 11:51 9th March 2037, Wyatt's POV**

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I believed the boy was ready. Me, Jason and Milo piled into the van. I took up the driver seat, and Milo sat in the back with the kid. Mathias desperately wanted to come, but with his busted leg, he was better off staying back here. It would only be a few more days before he was up. But he was stubborn, so it would be most likely tomorrow that he would be up and walking.

I checked over my USP.45, unloading the magazine and inspected that the amount of bullets inside were filled to the top. I was satisfied to find that they were, and loaded it back in before cocking and holstering the handgun. After, I pulled back the hatch separating the two compartments of the van and peered back. Milo weighed his Sawn-Off Double barrel shotgun in one hand, the other filled with multiple red shells. I could clearly see the pale white skull on his grey shirt. His boots tapped rhythmically on the flooring of the van, sending shudders through the vehicle. He was definitely ready for a fight.

The boy, on the other hand, fumbled with his weapon. Luckily for us, it wasn't loaded yet. His magazine was still in his left pocket, and he was looking over the weapon continuously, analyzing every bit of it. I had given him a dark grey jacket to borrow. He had zipped up so only a tiny bit of his green shirt was in sight.

Milo leaned forward to the boy and held out a hand.

"Want help?" I heard him ask. Jason handed over his gun, and the bald Russian started showing him how to use ready and use his weapon. I grinned at the sight. It reminded me a lot of how I trained Lydia when she was close to the same age. Before I could get teary, I closed the hatch and rapped my knuckles against it, giving the signal that we were ready to go. I commenced the engine start up and before long, we were rolling slowly out of the warehouse and onto the dirt road.

Today the sky was covered by dark clouds. Only a bit of the sun peeked through the clouds. There was a storm coming. And it wasn't going be from the sky. I could sense it. My eyes were glued to the road ahead. I could hear the occasional voice from the back, and felt the occasional bump in the road. The trail we went on made an almost perfect circle around our camp, and so we made it our patrol route. Along it were a few trees dotting the sides, and lots of tall grass. That made it hard to see in the distance. And that made the patrol harder to do, with the chance of something slipping by. I did not want to get back home to find it burned to the ground.

Halfway through, I stopped the van to check up on the others in the back. Opening my door, I stepped out and went to the side, knocking on the sliding door. As I waited, I scanned the area around us with my weapon drawn. After a few seconds, the door came sliding open with Milo holding the handle.

"Yes?" he asked bluntly. I smirked and how he presented himself. With his shotgun resting on his shoulder as he leaned against the door.

"Just making a stop. Anything you need to do?" He shook his head. I looked past him to Jason. The poor kids hands were shaking. But he still had his brave face on. "Kid" he turned to face me before and listened, "Need anything?" He shook his head and went back to looking at his feet. What did I expect? Maybe for him to talk? Cause that's all I wanted. I hadn't heard one peep from him since we went on. I had only heard Milo singing in Russian, or reading one of his small books he had brought along, also in Russian. I sighed and stepped back for Milo to shut the door. I then went to the driver seat and we were back on track.

Everything on the way was quiet, with not a single other sign of civilization. That was until I saw a glint of steel in the distance. Narrowing my eyes, I soon realized what it was and pushed down on the brake. The van came to a sudden stop, and I heard someone tumble in the back. But I paid no attention. My eyes never left the oncoming KPA light armored vehicle. On the top, it had a machine gun with a shield around it. It was covered in black, and heading towards us at a great speed. I thought that they might not have seen us yet, or they would be coming a lot faster, so we still had a chance.

Before getting out, I rapped on the hatch three times. There was a foreign curse, followed by the sound of the door opening. I pushed open the door and ran to the back, where Jason and Milo awaited my arrival. Milo had his weapon at the ready, and Jason was crouched against the back of the van. I could see his knees wobbling, but he managed to keep his hands still. It seemed that my lessons of self control had worked. Sort of. I placed a hand on his shoulder as a sign of assurance.

"You ready?" I asked him. He nodded, a little shakily. I started to regret the decision of allowing him to come along, realizing that he may not be ready. But as Mathias used to say; 'there is no time like the present'. And he was right.

I equipped my handgun and moved my other hand to the edge of the back of the vehicle to steady myself as I peered out slightly. The vehicle had just stopped, and my head darted back when one of the doors opened. As the footsteps and voices came closer, I held up three fingers and started counting down. While I did, I felt my heart race, the adrenaline pumping around. And then, as my last finger went down, we popped out from cover.

I was the first to fire, landing a shot on their vehicle. The bullet only just missed his leg. My second shot didn't. The KPA soldier collapsed, holding his leg to his chest as he cried out in pain. The others snapped to us, ignoring their screaming comrade. I heard Milo's shotgun fire, and then a splatter as the spray of lead tore through another on the other side. I hadn't seen it, but could easily picture the soldier laying in a pool of his own blood. Beside me, Jason stayed back. And it was better that way. We could handle these guys. And if one got around, I trusted him to take him out.

I took cover as a hail of rounds showered the side of the van, not penetrating the outer shell. I had Hank to thank for that. I blind-fired around the corner, and after four rounds, leaned out of cover and landed a well placed hit on my target's arm. He fell back, holding his arm. I began to fire on another, and as I did, I noticed the downed soldier reaching for his pistol. That was something I could not allow, so I popped another into him to finish him off. Another bullet winded past, forcing me to back down. By now, there was one left. And when I heard Milo's weapon sound off on my side, I knew it was over. Now, I wondered how stupid they were, because not a single one of them had stayed in the mounted gun.

"Need to leave! Now!" Milo's voice rang out. I wondered why, and when I looked down the road, I saw the reason. Another vehicle was heading our way. I ran and dived into the driver seat, knowing that the other two were already in. Without buckling up, I pushed down and the van lurched forward, sending a spray of dirt into the air. The light armored vehicle wasn't too far behind, zooming past the recent battle site. This time, they weren't so stupid.

"Shit!" I cursed when I heard their mounted gun firing. If they were closer and more accurate, I would have been sure that the others were dead. So just to be sure, I kept the hatch open. The good thing about this van was that it was very maneuverable and had tougher armor. The bad news was that we only had a side door. And that meant that if we wanted to shoot back, we had to do it the hard way. I heard the sliding door open, and then a handgun firing. At first, I thought it was Jason. But when I heard the swearing, I knew it was Milo. When it came to car chases, the old Ruski was the best. Especially when heavy weapons were involved.

 _"Priyti i poluchit' yego zhopy!"_ I grinned as he continued to fire insults as well as bullets in their direction. Some of them I recognized from his occasional lessons, and was pretty shocked by his language. He was really pissed off at these guys chasing us. And I really was too. I smirked slyly when I saw the narrow road ahead, a steep on one side. _Their_ side.

"Ruski!" I called back. "I got an idea! Hold on!" Without a pause top hear a reply, I slowed down, allowing the KPA Humvee to come to our side. It was risky, but it was the only way to get them off our butts. With one quick turn, I slammed into their side, and they were sent rolling down the hill. And not rolling on their tires, but on their side. I didn't stop to see if they were dead, because there were bound to be more. To lose the tracks, I went off road, heading straight towards our home base. Hopefully, we would be there first.

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 **Jason's POV**

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You would think that with my attitude, I would have been shooting, right? Well then, I feel ashamed. The whole time during that firefight, I had slunk down against the back of the van. I hadn't thought the idea of coming along through very well, because in truth, I was afraid. And not just of dying, but also of killing.

Then when the van shot ahead with us in it, and when I heard the machine gun fire outside, I was even more fearful. And as soon as Milo opened that door, I wanted to beg him to close it. But I was frozen in fear. After all those times I thought I was brave back at Chester, I never was. The whole time, I had my weapon holstered. Hadn't even fired it once. Not a single time did I discharge it.

Soon, I felt it stop after such a long trip. Milo led me out of the van and sat me down on a nearby wooden crate before leaving to go and talk with Wyatt. I had the feeling that it was about me. How much of a failure I was. My head fell into my hands, and I soon found myself crying. Crying like a baby. I stopped when I felt someone's hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Wyatt's face. He looked sympathetic, and all I could think about was how pathetic I had looked. I expected him to start scolding me for being such a coward. But instead, I was surprised.

"It's okay, kid. It's okay to be scared. In fact, I was when I first fired a gun." I looked at him in disbelief at his confession. Never did I ever think that he could be scared. "Only a little, though." I looked at him glumly. He smiled, obviously feeling amused. "Come on. Get some rest." I nodded and slowly stood up, then followed him to my quarters. Once he left, I fell asleep, thinking of my family. And then my new family. _This_ family that I had now. And I felt happy.

* * *

I woke up later because Milo had woken me up. He said it was important, so I sat up, forgetting about the bunk above. And just like very time, it hurt a lot. After a thorough rubbing of the head, I walked out and went where Milo had told me to go before hurrying off. On the way, I wondered what it was about. Perhaps it was about the KPA patrol. Or maybe it was about me. Is that why Milo hadn't told me what it was about? I shook the thought from my head.

Outside of the room I was told to go to, I could hear hushed voices through the door. And when I knocked, the voices were suddenly silenced. There was long silence, and the door soon opened, revealing a dimly lit room with a table in the center. On the table was a map, with markings and little flags on it. Across from the door was Wyatt, with Milo on his left and Jill on his right. And one more with his back turned.

"About time, fella. We thought you'd never come." the fourth person muttered. He turned his head and flashed a wide grin, and I was surprised to see Mathias upright again. I mean, I thought he would never walk. I'd seen many people in Chester with leg wounds, and no one could treat them. So I must have underestimated the rebels' efforts. I approached the table and Mathias rested a hand on my back, as if to prevent me from running.

"Are you sure this plan is necessary. It was only one patrol-" Jill tried to reason, but was stopped short by a frustrated Wyatt.

"It was not only _one patrol"_ he snapped back, emphasizing his last words. I flinched at his harsh tone, and noticed Mathias and Milo do the same. Apparently, he didn't get frustrated often. He turned away from the table and raised a hand to his head and tugged a little at it. Jill clamped her mouth shut, gritting her teeth. He turned back around to continue, "There were two vehicles, and this is the closest they have been. And...and I didn't check for survivors." Jill's jaw fell open and Mathias slapped a hand against his face. Wyatt's face fell as he confessed. I knew it was bad, because if there were any survivors, they could easily go back. And then, they would come back.

"What do you mean you didn't check?! You idiot!" I jumped at the now-fuming woman's raging voice, but the others didn't. This was the one thing that was indeed frequent around here, and it still took some getting used to.

"I-I'm sorry! Okay? I couldn't get the kid hurt, and-"

"Oh, sure! Just think about the kid!" Jill yelled at him, gesturing to me. I could feel my fists clenching together. Mathias whispered something to me, but I didn't hear anything. "He couldn't even protect himself! He will get himself killed" I could feel my nostrils flaring, and my eyes grew wider with rage. I did not notice that Wyatt and Milo were arguing for my side, thought Wyatt more so, because my were entirely focused on her. She was about to cross the line. "He will get us all killed. He is only a child" she went on, and then, what she said next pushed me over the edge. "He is useless out in the field!"

"I'm not useless!" My outburst surprised everyone in the room. Even myself. Jill looked shocked, her eyes widened in fear and hands over her mouth. Milo was very surprised, and scorning me for some reason. And Wyatt rushed behind me to help...I felt a heavy guilt as I saw Mathias laying on the floor. What had I done? Possibly the worst mistake I could ever do. They were surely angry at me for what I did. So I did what instinct told me to do. I ran back to my room.

* * *

 **Wyatt's POV**

* * *

I couldn't believe what had just happened. The kid who had cowered in a fight actually stood up for himself. Everyone was surprised, and I was even more shocked when I watched Mathias fall backwards with a hard thud. Immediately, I rush to his side and help him up, not noticing the frightened boy run from the room. Once I noticed he was gone, I sent a scolding glare over to Jill.

"That wasn't necessary" I rebuked, holding my intimidating stare. She still had her hands over her mouth in shock, so it was obvious she wasn't listening. I turned my attention to Mathias after and sat him in the chair next to him. I was about to check on his leg, but his hand caught mine.

"It's fine. Trust me...An Irishman never lies." I chuckled lightly. I knew he wasn't angry, even though his voice was gruff. He was just shocked, and when someone knocks the wind out of him, he was normally like that. But he was also forgiving, and he wouldn't hold any grudges. The lighthearted joke at the end proved that. If he did, it would be towards Jill. Milo had the same scolding glare, though it was towards the door, and I knew that he thinking about Jason and not Jill.

"It's not his fault, Milo." The Russian's face changed to disappointment, though he nodded. My view was set upon Jill once more, and this time I approached her. "What's wrong with you? He's just a kid." Now she was listening, because she looked at me with the slight spark of apology in her eyes. "He's been through a lot, so before you let the words out, think about them first." There was a pause as I thought of what to do with her. Perhaps I could make her clean the bedrooms. Or maybe help Hank with the van. But after some thought, he had a better idea in mind. Something he knew that she hated. "I want you to apologize to him." She opened her mouth to argue, but I would have none of it. "Go" I demanded in a commanding tone. "Before I lose my patience."

"Fine" was all she said before stalking off, pretending to be angry. I knew she was angry because I could see that she could already feel regret. When she was gone, I went back to the table.

"Let's get this over with." We immediately began looking for alternate locations. Time passed by, and before long, it was late. Milo went with Mathias to make sure he could make it back okay while I went to check up on Jason. And by the time I reached him, I was fatigued. So tired that I went to my bunk and collapsed right onto it, not paying any mind to the sleeping kid. When I noticed he was asleep, I sighed. It seemed that I wouldn't be getting anything out from him. Hopefully he wouldn't mind the plan for tomorrow. Because I knew that there would be bloodshed. The only question was whose blood will be spilled? The thought of losing friends made me shudder, so I dispelled it from my mind and closed my eyes, allowing the foreboding darkness to enclose me and take me from the harsh reality of life. If only I could stay.


	8. Arc I: Attention Seeking

_To save others, sacrifices must be made. You always have to make a choice. And either choice has good results. And bad consequences._

* * *

 **Pennsylvanian Country, 12:33 10th March 2037, Jason's POV**

* * *

I woke up, and going off the time on the clock on the chest of drawers next to the bunk, it was almost midday. So much must have happened, but I didn't care. I didn't feel like I belonged here anymore. They all must have hated me after that outburst I had the day before. Slowly, I sat up and stretched my legs. They ached from being still for too long, and it took some time for the pain to subside.

While I waited, I looked across to see Wyatt's bunk. But I was left in a state of confusion to see it was bare. At first, I believed it might be getting cleaned. But then I noticed that the room was almost completely empty, except for the drawers with the clock on it, the bunks and me. Left in the cold, dark room. Not even the quiet breeze of the air conditioner was in the air. It was an eerie silence, and I started to feel that something was off. Perhaps this was just another nightmare, yet I found it hard to believe as normally my nightmares recently were all the same. Stuck in a burning Chester, listening to screams all around. The memories of those dreams made me shiver all over in fear. They all had seemed so real.

By the time my legs were ready to move, I was anxious to know what was going on, and lifted myself from the bunk, avoiding the top bunk with ease. I felt a cold sensation and realized that my shoes were off, and my feet quivered slightly against the cold floor, urging to be put in an area of warmth. I obliged by putting them in my sneakers, then headed out of the room. Once again, I was met by an eerie silence. There were no footsteps or quiet whispers, nor was there any smell of food and not a single light was on. It was as if everyone had vanished without a trace. And that made me feel a feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach. I felt the sudden urge to cry out to anyone, but held it back, in case something bad had happened. What if they had been found? What if I was in a dream? What if...what if I was dead? I desperately wanted to rid myself of the thought, but all could have been true. If I could one sign of life, then maybe it would disappear.

Sadly, after searching half the warehouse, I found nothing. It had been cleared out. The shooting range had been cleared of weapons, and the targets missing. The room with the table was missing the table. The cafeteria had been emptied as well, with not a single tin of food left. I felt goose bumps popping up all over, and bad feelings in the pit of my stomach. I had checked everywhere. Everywhere...except the drop off bay! I made a mad dash to the vehicle area.

When I arrived, I felt relief flow through me. The van was there, as well as two other vehicles. One was a silver Jeep with armor plating over the back and side windows with thin slits to see through, and a snow plow on the front. I found that odd. Next to the Jeep was a black ute with sheets of metal attached to the sides of the back and armored windows like the Jeep. All three vehicles had people packing things into them, such as food cans, weapons and other necessities. One of them I recognized. The red haired woman who had _apologized_ to me last night, if that's what you call it. She was ordering the others when she heard my running footsteps behind her. She was the first to acknowledge me out of everyone. Though she chose to ignore me completely. No one would have known I was there if one of the others hadn't seen me. He waved me over with one hand, the other under a crate that was being lifted into the back of the ute, and another man on the other side.

"Hey, new kid! We could use your help here!" I rushed over and placed my hands under the side closest to me, then lifted. The thing was very heavy, but with the other two there, it wasn't too hard. "Thanks for the help" he panted, and held out his hand. I accepted it and shook. Just like everyone but Milo, he had a tight grip, though not too tight.

"You're welcome" I replied. He made his way over to the van, and when he was gone I rubbed my hands together in an attempt to rid the small aching pain. Both from the crate and his meaty hand. That's when Jill began to walk over, a clipboard with a checklist in one hand and a black pen in the other. She looked tired, and was very red-faced.

"Where have you been?" she asked in a demanding manner, jabbing the pen at me. I glowered down at her, but kept my hands to myself. Instead, I just shrugged.

"Slept in, because _someone_ didn't wake me up." She glared daggers at me, then stalked off away from me. It seemed that I had annoyed her. Maybe all women here didn't enjoy me being around. Only the men had paid any attention to me, while some of the women only threw in an occasional hi. All but Jill and Lydia. I took this time to observe what was happening. That's when I realized that there were four missing: Hank, Wyatt, Milo and Mathias.

I thought about asking Jill, but she would most likely ignore me. And everyone else seemed busy. So I decided to wait, because they may have been inside. I sat down, helping here and there for around ten minutes, and they still had not come. At that time, I had went against my previous decision and marched over to Jill before demanding answers in the most calm way possible.

"Where are the others?" She looked up from her clipboard to me and arched a brow. Then, after a small moment, she made a face of realization.

"You mean Wyatt? Oh, they left ages ago." I could tell she read the confusion on my face, because she went on to explain. "We have to abandon this place. They left to help." That left me even more confused.

"How are they going to help if they aren't here?" I asked. I never expected the answer I received.

* * *

 **Wyatt's POV**

* * *

I felt bad for not waking the kid. But after last night, he deserved some sleep. And I didn't need to wake him up to say goodbye, because I knew we would be back. But my mind was better at reasoning than my heart. And it's belief was that we wouldn't make it back. Not all of us. Deep inside, I knew that we definitely weren't leaving unscathed.

"D'ya think they'll be there on time?" Hank asked from the driver's seat of our Jeep Wrangler. I sat beside him with my head against the window, my eyes drifting along the landscape. I only lifted my head to answer, knowing who he referred to.

"Lydia will make it back just fine. We told them where to go, and they will be there, waiting for the rest. Hopefully, we will be there to greet them" I answered, the last part sounding glum. I felt a strong hand on my upper arm and turned my head to find Hank looking at me.

"They gon' be fine. Trust me. They can hold they own." I nodded silently, half of me agreeing. But the other half was still afraid fro them. What if they were found? And if they led the KPA to the others? I repressed the questions in my head and readied myself. We were only a minute away from the drop off point. There, Hank would wait for us while we completed our mission.

I peered at the Milo and Mathias in the back seats. They already had their weapons at the ready. I upholstered my own USP.45 and checked the ammo clip, then loaded it back in and cocked it back. Now all I had to do was turn off the safety and it would be ready for shooting. The vehicle came to a slow roll before stopping by a tall billboard. We hid the car among the bushes at the bottom of it and then we exited the car. Hank stayed, however, because that's where we needed him.

"We'll be back" I reassured before turning from the open window and taking the lead. Me and Milo took the road, while Mathias had the high ground on our right. We stayed crouched, slowly advancing with our eyes scanning the path ahead. Not long after did our target come into our sights. It was a small checkpoint, with a single guard tower and a small barracks. It had a barbed wire fence all around, the only openings in it being the boom gates on either side of the road inside.

"Road ahead clear" Mathias said over the radio.

"Roger, Old Man" I replied back. Old Man was his code name, Ruski was Milo's and mine, regrettably, was Watts. I would have rathered something better than an electrical measurement, but anything was better than the nickname Jill had for me. I heard a grunt on the end, and then it cut off. With a flick of my hand, I signaled Milo to move up with me. The higher ground sloped down, and Mathias was soon by our side.

"What's de plan, Watts?" Mathias queried. I took a knee and they followed my action.

"We need to hit that checkpoint-" I pointed my gloved index finger at the fenced area, "-and draw as many KPA patrols to us as possible. Hopefully it'll but the others some time. When it's time to go, we leave this place as a fiery ruin. And I know just how" I finished explaining, pulling out a sniper scope and zooming in on the fuel tank inside. Next, I pulled out my knife and started to draw a map in the ground. "Old Man, you will go here, near the guard tower." As I spoke, I drew a line from the outside of the fence line to the guard tower. "Ruski, you take this side, with me. We'll cut through the fence and by the time reinforcements arrive, we will already be in position. You two got it?" They both nodded. I grinned, satisfied with my answer. "Good. Let's move out. On me, Ruski."

We went around, using nearby shrubs as cover. Since it wasn't night, they wouldn't be using searchlights. But the bad thing was that they had an infinite source of light in the sky. Too bad they don't use it. Milo watched our backs for outside patrols with his double-barrel while I began cutting with the wire cutters I brought with us. It took longer than expected, but we got through with no interruption. Once through, we raced to the grey cement wall across from us. And by the sounds of it, so did Mathias. Still, I had to check.

"Old Man, are you in? Repeat, are you in?" There was a crackle, followed by silence. Then the earpiece came to life with a voice.

"Aye. Below de tower nigh. Waitin' for yer go."

"I copy. Wait for the signal." Before he could do some smart ass remark I switched it to stand by and signaled Milo to take point. With my USP drawn, I stayed by his back, glancing back to make sure no one was coming around the corner behind us. The building wasn't too long, possibly only thirty meters in length and fourteen in width. For a barracks, it was small. Almost perfect for a checkpoint. And the smaller the building, the less people there were in it. I stopped by the window and Milo went straight for the corner, waiting for someone to come around. Out of my pack, I claimed a hand grenade and after pulling the pin, threw it through the window. The glass shattered and panicked shouts of terror filled the room it went in, and then I waited. Seconds later, there was an explosion, cutting off the frantic shouting. I peered into the window, weapon in hand to find three dead, and one an officer. Me and Milo rounded the corner, ducking and running for cover. I slid to a cement road block while Milo took cover on the other side of the road. Already we were being fired upon by automatic rifles. I lifted above my head and fired a couple of rounds, hoping to get a hit. From the sounds of hit, no one did. Unless I hit someone in the face, cutting off their dying screams. It was only a matter of time before automatic fire came down on them from the tower. It seemed that Mathias had made it up, and claimed the guard's rifle as his own. We took our chance and charged forward while they were pinned down. By now, an alert would have been sounded.

"Ruski! Take the right!" He nodded and rounded to their right flank, then began unloading some shells into them. I took the building, and as soon as I entered, I was pinned down. I managed to catch a glimpse of a soldier armed with an T3AK assault rifle. There was a pause in his firing, so I took my chance. With a well placed while he reloaded, I forced him onto the ground. I fired another into him to finish him and then advanced further into the building. It was small, and by some luck I had hit the sleeping quarters with the grenade, and the galley was close to the entrance, so I knew that was clear. Now all that was left was the communications room. Once he arrived, he found two. Fortunately for him, they hadn't noticed him. One was standing with a rifle in hand, and the other had a pistol on the desk in front of him. They had a good setup. There was a set of radios and a desktop computer on the desk, and a generator at the far wall. With the element of surprise, he shot the standing soldier in the hand, forcing him to drop his gun.

"Get down!" I instructed with a loud and clear voice. The man at the desk slowly lowered his head onto the desk. But the standing soldier just stood there, his eyes burning into mine. "I said get down!" And he moved. But not the way I expected. He charged forward, brandishing a knife. On instinct, I fired. He sidestepped out of the bullet's path and before I could fire another he slashed at me. I dodged the swipe by taking a step back and leaning away, then raised a hand to catch his knife arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other making a grab for his pistol. After elbowing my opponents head, I bolted to the radio operator, only to be caught around the neck by the one I had thought to be unconscious. The radio operator grabbed the handgun and leveled it at me. Thinking quickly, I snapped my head back, butting my captor's nose. I then reversed the situation and by that time, it was too late for him. The bullet fired, and hit him square in the chest. I pushed him at the radio operator and using his partner's knife I pinned his hand against the table. He screamed in pain, trying to tug it at. But it was too deep to be pulled out in a panic.

I began using the computer beside the radio and pinpointed the expected reinforcements. Judging on the ETA on the computer, they would be here in ten minutes. And that was more than enough. My ears started to hurt from the constant screaming next to me, so I slammed his face against the desk. If that didn't kill him, then he would be out for a while. Though that didn't matter when I tossed a grenade back in as I strolled out calmly from the building. I heard the explosion as I left it, and found Mathias and Milo waiting in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by KPA corpses.

"We need to clean up. Once we're done, we need to get ourselves ready. Each of us is going to wear a KPA uniform. Old Man, you will be in the tower. Ruski, you will be waiting at the boom gate. I'll greet them out the front of the barracks. When I give the signal, you open fire. The main objective is to hold them here for as long as possible. Understand?"

" _Da_ " Milo answered. Mathias's answer was similar, and we all got to work.

* * *

Based on the ETA I had seen, it would be a minute and a half before they arrived. And we were ready. All the bodies had been piled into the sleeping quarters of the barracks, and we had a uniform each. In my hands I held a T3AK with an under barrel shotgun, my USP.45 holstered at my side. Milo had a M1014 pump action shotgun and his sawn off double-barrel, and Mathias waited in the guard tower with a scoped T3AK and his Colt 1911 that he called 'Sally'.

"Everyone in position?" I asked over the radio. Both confirmed. "Good. Old Man, are they is sight yet?" There was a pause, then he answered.

"Two light armor, comin fast." I acted surprised, for I had expected more. But even still, it would be slightly challenging. It wasn't too long after the warning when I saw them coming down the road towards the checkpoint gate. My rifle pressed against my chest, and my fingers tapped alongside the trigger to relieve the tension.

They stopped right by the gate, and Milo opened the gate up after 'checking' their papers, allowing them to pass through. The vehicle at the front had no mounted gun, but the second one did. So we had to be careful about that one when we start the fight. Out of the first one came an officer with one other soldier by his side, armed with an standard 870 Express shotgun.

" _Ulineun dangsin-i gong-gyeog-eul badgo iss-eossda jeonhwaleul bad-assda. Sanghwang-eul seolmyeong._ " He may have spoken in Korean, but that didn't make it any harder. I had learnt Korean for these exact situations. He had asked what the situation was, so I answered in their language.

" _Ulineun munjeleul dalueoss da. Geuleona ulineun yaggan-ui sonsil-eul haessda._ " The officer raised a brow behind his sunglasses and I could imagine him giving me a questioning look. And I could guess why. My language may have been good, but my fluent accent may have been the give away. Fortunately it seemed that he didn't pay much attention to it.

" _Dangsin-ui jang-gyo eodi?_ " he asked cautiously. Just the question he had to ask. Well, I could have answered straight up. But I didn't think he would like the answer.

" _Geuneun ... salam jung hanaga hiteu haessda_ " I answered hesitantly. The officer stepped closer and eyed me carefully, studying my eyes which were the only parts of the face that was visible.

" _Jeonhwa beonhoga eotteohge doejyo?_ " That one question caused a ping in my heart. Other soldiers began to empty. Just a few more seconds, and then it would be the perfect moment.

" _Uh..su_?" His eyes narrowed, and I caught movement as his hand slowly lowered towards his holstered weapon. Looking at the other vehicles, I counted in my head. _One..._

" _Ne. Jeonhwa beonho._ " _Two..._

" _Mianhajiman, nado molla._ " _Three..._ "But, I do know yours." For a moment, the officer seemed to be stunned in confusion possibly because I had spoken in English. "It's nothing...cause you're dead." Before he could reply, I put my spare arm to his neck and pivoted him on the spot, raising my rifle just above his shoulder before firing a shot at my first target. The shotgun soldier collapsed in a heap, and another went with him when my second shot hit him. In a second it had begun a full-on firefight. The first enemy bullet directed out me hit the officer right in the shoulder, and three more hit him in the chest, splattering blood over his vest. A bit sprayed up on my neck, but that was it. When I neared cover, I pushed him aside and shouldered my rifle before popping up to fire a few rounds.

Milo had the rear vehicle handled and was using it as cover, keeping them away from the turret. Mathias pinned a few down next to the front car, hitting a couple of heads. In the first twenty seconds, five were down, and seven were left. Everything was going well. Another popped up, and his head exploded in a red mist as I pounded two bullets into his face. I saw two more go down, killed off by Mathias's well aimed shots. It would have been over if the third vehicle hadn't shown up from behind. I was showered by a barrage of machine gun bullets, so I was forced to dive into the building. But not without getting my left arm clipped. My rifle dropped from my hands, and I was forced to use my pistol. I put the pistol around the corner with one hand, only just peering around to see them. Then I let off two rounds, one of them hitting.

I was about to fire another when I was startled by a crash, and turned in time to see the tower fall on the first car. Luckily, I had seen Mathias jump out, but it would have still hurt him. Looking to the second one, I saw Milo sitting against the side of the vehicle, holding his leg with one hand and his sawn off in the other. If I was to save them, then I had to do it now. I steadied my pistol towards the fuel tank close to the third vehicle and fired, making a hole. The liquid began pouring out in a small fountain. Then with my last grenade, I pulled the pin and threw it before covering my ears and getting as close to the ground as possible. It was all over when the big boom went off, shaking the ground and sending a fireball into the sky.

* * *

 **Well, that was an explosive chapter. So here's the next vote: Who will die?** **Remember, some will change the course of the story, and this one will change it majorly. So choose wisely.**

 **The Korean lines are listed in order below. If any are wrong, blame google translator, cause that's what I used:**

 **We received a call that you were under attack. Explain the situation**

 **We have dealt with the problem. But we took some losses**

 **Where is your officer**

 **He...was one of the ones hit**

 **What is your number**

 **Uh..number**

 **Sorry, but I do not know**


	9. Arc I: Dealing With Loss

_Life is full of loss. The only way you can survive is to get past it. That is one of the downsides of life._

* * *

 **Pennsylvanian Country, 14:30 10th March 2037,** **Jason's POV**

* * *

The entire trip had been quiet, with a bit of small talk between the others. But I stayed silent, the only one that was familiar being Jill, but she sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, and I doubted that she would want to talk to me anyway. So I sat quietly and still. If they didn't see my chest rising while I breathed, then they would have assumed I was dead. The vehicle rocked to the side again, making me bob around and almost whack my head on the rebel beside me. I felt myself drifting into a sleep and slowly closed my eyes. But someone else had other ideas when I felt a nudge in my side.

"Hey, kid. You the newcomer?" he questioned with a studying look. I nodded, and a grin slowly appeared across his mouth. "I heard what you did. You must have good aim, and with a bit of practice, you would be as skilled as Lydia."

"No one can beat Lydia" the man on his other side argued. That began an argument that went on for a while, and it wasn't long before I toned out of it and went back to the comforting, lonely silence.

"Hey! knock it off, you two!" Jill ordered sternly whilst glaring at them. I didn't know why she did, because all she had to do was look at them and they'd think she was angry. She always looked angry, even when she was happy. They shut themselves up and sat upright, then she turned around with a frustrated sigh, muttering something about boys being boys. The man in the middle leaned in to my ear close enough so I could smell the tobacco on his breath.

"I still think you might be better" he remarked. I rolled my eyes and turned to the window. Truthfully, I felt slightly flattered by his comment. It made me feel a little better, but still I felt lonely. My hand went under my chin to hold it up at window level.

About ten to twenty minutes later, we came to a stop. Jill was the first to exit the vehicle, then the driver and the other two. I was the last and I was amazed by what I saw.

Unlike the last place we stayed at, this was a farm. A well fortified farm. It had two towers, one at the northwest corner and another at the southeast corner. At some points along the outer boundary of the farm were short walls of sandbags and cement roadblocks, some with barbed wire along the top. To the east of the farm, there was a black barn with a black green roof. At the top of the barn house, there was a small balcony around the top window with a wooden wall that would reach my waist height, and just outside the main door were more blocks and sandbag walls. A yard to the right of the barn, there was also a two story house with a veranda that went the whole way around with a railing around it, wooden panels screwed onto some parts as cover. It's roof was a pale green and the rest of the house was white. With both buildings, the roof was larger than the building itself, and was close to the color of the grass. A smart way of hiding this place from air patrols. I had to say, I was impressed by this new haven for us. They must have built it as a secondary position. That made me wonder if they had a whole bunch of backups.

"Alright everyone! We need to get set up and ready! So move it!" she ordered, and everyone rushed around, getting supplies from the convoy. I helped by carrying a carton of bean cans, and followed another into the house. The door had two tall windows in the top half, so I could clearly see the inside of it. Beyond the door were yellow walls with a grey carpet. The man in front of me turned the doorknob and pushed the open, then moved to the side to hold it open for me. I squeezed past the box he held and ventured down the entrance hall of the house. On either side, there were two openings in the walls. The one on my right led to an average size lounge room, with one couch and two recliners as well as a long coffee table in the middle and a window across from the couch. There was a cabinet behind the far recliner, and a smaller table beside the closer one, both having lamps on them. In the left room was what I assumed to be the dining room. There was a table large enough for six people with another two at either end and ten chairs for each of those people. There were two windows, one to the left of the doorway and the other across from it.

"That way" the man behind me pointed out, his index finger pointing past my head to the room we were supposed to go to. I followed his direction and found the kitchen. It's pearly white tiles looked slightly dirty with tiny patches of mould. On the grey benches, there were signs of grease and stains. I could tell that they were at least a month or so old. In one corner, there was a silver double-door fridge and two cabinets close to the floor next to it. After was an oven with a stove top, followed by another two cabinets and a pantry. There was a separate bench in the middle with a couple of cutting boards and a one cabinet, a sink next to the cutting boards. And with a closer look, I saw that the sink had been recently used. I had the feeling that it shouldn't be like that, so I indicated it to the other man. Already he was placing box down onto the bench and proceeded to run outside. I put mine down as well and followed him out.

"Jill! We have a problem!" I may have only seen her back, but I knew by how she faced the man that she most likely had rolled her eyes in annoyance. It seemed to me that she didn't like this job very much. And that made me feel a little better.

"What is it now?" she asked in annoyance. She looked like she had had a rough day so far, and probably was wishing it was something minor.

"We've found evidence that someone else is here." And there went her wish of having a quiet day. All of a sudden, she became alert and rushed inside, pushing me aside in the process. I almost shouted at her, but instead followed her inside along with the other man.

Once in the kitchen, Jill brandished a knife and held it menacingly, on the watch for anyone that didn't belong. We were so busy searching the inside of the kitchen to not notice someone come through the window.

"Umm...did I miss something?" We all whirled around to find someone we recognized right away. "Hey guys."

"Lydia, sweetie!" Jill walked over to her and went to hug her, but Lydia held out a flat palm. "What?" She then pointed to the knife in her hand. "Oh. Sorry." She put it down, then went back to trying to hug her, and this time the young woman accepted it.

"I missed you too, Jill" Lydia said cheerfully. I hadn't seen her smile before, so it felt nice to see her smile. Considering her upsetting past, it must have been really rare for her to be happy. The other man went over to join the hug, but Lydia was faster and ducked out of the way. "You want another nose job?" He backed off after that, grumbling bitterly with his back to us. Lydia rolled her eyes at him and went to the box of tins, then pulled one out and with a can opener began twisting it open.

"When did you get here, anyway?" Jill asked politely and curiously. I wanted to know as well, because we didn't see any truck or footprints to show any sign of their presence before. Lydia dug a spoon into the can of beans and took a spoonful before answering.

"We came here some twenty minutes ago. Our truck is off the farm, in case anyone had come by and decided to stay. That ain't something we want, now is it?" she specified, pointing the spoon at us as if to indicate it was our turn to talk. In case we wanted to prove a point, but I didn't see why. It seemed reasonable enough. Don't want to get jumped by bandits or KPA.

"No, it isn't. Still, you could have called when you got here." She crossed her arms, waiting for an excuse.

"Sorry. I would have, but I haven't even told Jasper that it's clear to bring the truck in yet." And there's where she is in need of lecturing. If Wyatt were here, she would be getting told off. Jill's hand slid down her face, and I could tell she was holding back her frustration. "I should go get him, shouldn't I?" Jill nodded bluntly. Lydia rolled her eyes and left through the way she came in, which was surprisingly the window.

"Sometimes that girl needs to use that space between her ears."

"You mean the brain?" the man asked. She shot him a glare, and I raised a brow, wanting to tell him that she obviously meant the brain. What else was there? But she did it for me.

" _Get out_ of my sight" she growled sternly. He slowly backed away, then ran out the door. Afraid she would take it out on me, I was right on his tail. We almost tripped down the porch stairs in our hurry to survive her wrath. After I checked that she wasn't following, I sat down on the chair, huffing and panting like it had cost me a lot of effort to run. I couldn't even get a break to catch my breath when I saw a vehicle pull up in front of the house. Instantly, I knew who had come.

"They're back!" someone called out. Already more than half of everyone here had arrived. "Someone get Jill! They have returned!" I felt a brush past me, but paid it no attention. Instead I slowly approached the Wrangler, eager to one again see familiar faces. Eventually my eagerness got the better of me, and I was soon running towards it and gathering with the others. The driver's door opened, and out came Hank. But he didn't look happy. He actually looked panicked.

"We need some help ere! Now!" Two others rushed to his aid, but also blocked the view of the rear door. I struggled to see, and soon did when one of them backed away with Wyatt's arm over his shoulders, the other arm against his chest with traces of blood staining his sleeve. Next came Milo, being carried in the second soldier's and Hank's arms. His leg was soaked with the very same red liquid. I stood aside as they went by into the house. Once they were gone, I noticed something missing. Looking in the car, I found it was empty. And that meant only one thing. It was something I wish wasn't true. Still, I had to know. My feet carried me swiftly inside to find Wyatt sitting on one of the recliners with Jill tending to his wound.

"Wyatt!"

"Jason. It is good to see you again" he rasped. He then signaled for me to sit by his side with a gentle gesture of his hand. "What is it you need?"

"Where's Mathias?" I couldn't control myself, and it had just slipped out. Right away I regretted it as his face turned grim.

"Jason...I am _so_ sorry." His eyes moved down in sorrow, and Jill's hands dropped. There were no other signs needed to know what they were on about. My head sunk low into my hands that stretched across from my knees. It seemed that my heart had skipped a beat. Once again, I had lost another who I had thought to be family, or at least as close as they could ever be. But I also knew that it didn't hit me the hardest. When Lydia found out, she may have been upset. Even if she did act as if she hated him. Wyatt must have been hit hard as well by it.

"H-how did it h-happen?" I stammered, fearing that he had suffered. He sighed in sadness, reluctant to answer. Though he still did.

"It all happened so fast. There was no way of seeing it coming..."

* * *

 **Wyatt's POV, Thirty-Five Minutes Ago...**

* * *

The ringing in my ears from the blast was enough for one day. But it seemed that my luck was about to change. I could not hear any gunfire, but I saw bullets rip through the air over the blockade ahead of me. My legs were beginning to feel numb from the rubble that covered them. The wall had been blasted in from the fuel tank, and from what I could see, despite my slightly blurred vision, almost the rest of the outpost was a smoldering ruin. The sky was dark and thick with smoke. It seemed that our plan had worked a little _too_ well. I began to crawl myself out from the debris. Slowly, my hearing began to come back. The first sign was the familiar cursing.

"Come ere, ye bastards! I've got enough for all of you!" With my handgun in hand, I fully crawled out and pulled myself up against half a destroyed wall. With quick glances, I analysed the situation. Mathias was standing in the remains of the tower, using two pistols to fire in both directions. Milo lay next to a bullet-riddled armored car. Seven KPA remained, two on Milo's side and the rest on the other. I took it upon myself to fire a round at them, but my aim was off, even though I was using my good arm.

"Mathias!" I shouted, using his real name instead of code name. It was against protocol to do such a thing, but at the time it hadn't come to mind. "Cover me!" He nodded and fired both pistols towards the north gate. I only just managed to stand on my wobbly legs and stumbled over to the injured Russian. A KPA rounded the vehicle and prepared to fire at the injured man. Before he could, I fired a well-aimed shot into his face. A spray of blood went out the back. By the time he fell, I was by my friend's side.

"Wyatt? Dat y..you?" he slurred, his eyes looking delirious from obvious blood loss.

"Come on, tough guy. Let's get you out of here." I wrapped my bad arm under his shoulder and pulled him up. It hurt at first, but I went with the pain and continued to do so. With my other hand, I held my weapon out in front of me. We stumbled over with heavy fire all around and made it unharmed over to the guard tower. Mathias ducked down in front of us and loaded in another two magazines. "We need to leave."

"W..we'll never make it. Too...many" Milo wheezed, barely able to speak through the coughing. The smoke was getting into him. And us too. We could barely breath in the poisonous air. I looked back towards the soldiers. They were advancing quickly. There was only one solution I could think of.

"One of us has to stay. We are all injured, and won't all make it. I-"

"I will." I opened my mouth to argue. "An' don't even tink about arguin' about it. Nathin' is gonna change me mind." I closed it right away. I was very reluctant to leave. But it was his decision. Though before leaving, I put a hand to his shoulder.

"See you on the other side." He nodded, then readied his pistols. "On my go." We waited till the right moment, then I brought my hand down, and he shot up, firing both pistols. I pulled Milo to his feet, then over my shoulders and ran for the south gate. We were just past it when I looked back. Mathias had run out of ammo, and instead of reloading, he dropped the pistols and took two more from his holsters. If there was one thing he liked to do, it was going full badass in battle. "Goodbye, my friend" was the last I said before leaving the Irishman behind.

* * *

 **Thirty-Five Minutes After...**

* * *

I let out another sigh once I had finished. By his expression, Jason was very upset. But unusually, he was also quite calm.

"He died a hero" I began. "Even in the end, he thought as if it was just a simple fight. He went out doing what he did best. And that was fighting." My hands clasped together under my chin, the bandage tightening slightly at my arm. "This is why we must continue. Because of people like him. We fight to save everyone's freedom. And he died for that. Remember that, kid." He nodded, and without another word, he turned away. Little did I know was that there was another listener right around the corner in the hall. And that other listener had been hit the hardest, despite the feelings that she had showed to others.

"Should we tell Lydia?" Jill queried. I heard running just outside of the room, and shook my head.

"I have a feeling that she already knows." Jill stood up and began to turn, but I grabbed her hand and kept her there. "Let her deal with it. She needs some time alone." She nodded and sat back down to continue tending to me. I winced as the threading needle pierced my skin once more. It was painful, but necessary.

* * *

 **Jason's POV**

* * *

The news had hit real hard, knowing that the man that had saved me from death itself, was gone. In truth, I wished I had been braver and stronger. Maybe, just maybe, I could have saved him. But it was too late for that. I moved through the house silently, hoping that some exploring would clear my mind. Though it did very much the opposite, because up the stairs I heard crying. It was quiet, muffled crying that sounded like someone with a pillow over their face. Curiosity got the better of me and I saw that it was exactly that. And much more.

Lydia was face planting into a pillow and punching it, swearing here and there. It seemed that she had heard the news, and wasn't taking it well. I was hesitant at first, but eventually knocked on the door. She stopped and her glare fixed on me. Tears streamed down her face, and she was quick to wipe them away before sitting up.

"What do you want?" she snapped, facing away to the side now. I took a step forward, being cautious in case she had a weapon on her.

"Just wanted to see how you were. And by what I've seen, you aren't going well." Her glare came back around, her eyes sharp like daggers.

"I am fine!" she almost shouted. But the tear forming told me otherwise. I took another step, and surprisingly she relaxed. "Fine. I'm not. What did you expect?! That I'd be glad my father was dead?!" I put my hands up defensively and shook my head.

"No! I would never. I know you still cared for him, even after what he did-" I stopped myself before I could continue, but it was too late. She let out an exasperated sigh and looked to the floor.

"Wyatt told you, didn't he?" I nodded and she snorted. "Of course he did. He seems to tell every new person around here." Once again, she looked at me. Then, she moved over and patted the bed next to her. "Come on then. I'm not going to bite." Cautiously, I stepped over and sat down, but with a large enough distance between us. She rolled her eyes, and we were silent for a time.

"I know how you feel." She frowned at me in confusion.

"No, you don't. Your parents are most likely alive. Mine are dead." I shook my head lightly.

"See, that's the thing. My parents...aren't my real parents" I confessed. I heard her stifle a gasp. "They died when I was eight years old. The KPA had reached Chester a month after my birthday. And it turned out that they had planted spies to target the biggest threats. My parents made it on that list. My father was in the army, and my mother was a nurse." I paused, hesitant about continuing, then continued. "My father was a lot like Mathias. Not in looks, but personality. That's why I took a liking to him almost straight away. Because he reminded me of him." I sighed and my gaze fell to the floor. There were no tears from me, for I had learnt how to cope with it. Still, it was sad to talk about. But not hard.

"I'm sorry" she said sorrowfully. She rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I felt a warmth at the touch. "I'm gonna get sleep. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't. I'll go now." She smiled thankfully and I walked out.

"And Jason," I turned one last time. "Thanks." I nodded and left her, closing the door behind me.

* * *

 **And there you have it. The truth of Jason's past. Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time :)**


	10. Arc I: Chess

_Even in desperate times, you must learn to enjoy the smaller things in life. I learnt that myself in this war, and found it to be true. Enjoying the little things calms the mind. One can always use a distraction in the harsh reality that is life._

* * *

 **Pennsylvanian Country, 12:36 15th March 2033, Jason's POV**

* * *

I watched from a short distance away as the young dark-haired woman trained hard, each round hitting the center of the painted red circle on the white wooden board. Several 51mm rounds were lined up beside her by the M40 sniper rifle. She lay in a prone position, with the bipod resting against the dirt of the small hill she fired from. That day, she wore faded denim jeans and another dark shirt with a hard rock band logo on the front, this time being a band called Led Zeppelin. Obviously, I knew nothing about it. The only thing Lydia had told me about her shirts was that they were all hard rock bands, and that was it. Her hair was in a neat pony tail, a black baseball cap covering the top of it. I stood with my back against the wall of the barn, with my arms crossed. My attire consisted of a grey jacket and some grey jeans, as well as a pair of white sneakers, all of which I had borrowed. I could see why the others saw her as the most accurate one of them. Another round ripped through the wood, the bang from the rifle echoing around the area. I saw that the round had gone all the way through, hitting the ground a fair distance away.

My attention was drawn to a greeting at the other end of the courtyard and found Jill, wearing a blue shirt and dark blue long skirt. She carried a bucket to the water pump. Her face was very tired and flushed, and I could blame Wyatt for that. Although it wasn't his fault his arm had got infected. Ever since it had, Jill was awake 24/7 to make sure it got better. He was on lockdown, but that didn't stop him from getting out. That was easy for him. The hard part was staying out. And it was getting harder. She had even set up her equipment in his room to watch over him while she did her job.

"How's Wyatt doin'" Hank questioned her while she walked back.

"Fine" was all she said back without a turn of her head. He shrugged and began to go back to his workshop in the barn, giving me a wave which I returned after. After I looked to where Jill was, but she was gone back inside. So I went back to the young woman firing her weapon. And when I did, I saw her eyes on me. She still held on to her rifle, with only her face towards me. I felt awkward standing, having been watching without her knowing. Imagine being caught by a girl doing that? I could feel my cheeks going hot, and hoped to God that they didn't go red like tomatoes.

"Are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?" she asked. I felt stupid right away. "Or are you going to shoot some wood?" Her eye went back to her scope, and once more she left into her own quiet world. I still stood there, taken by surprise. I had expected an insult, but not the offer she gave after. I soon however got back to myself and decided to accept the offer, taking the rifle beside her position. It was the same as hers, but instead of olive green it was a solid black, and had a longer scope.

I began the preparation of the weapon by readying the bipod at the front, and flipped the safety off. After a few of seconds of checking the weapon, I pulled the bolt back. The rifle was ready to fire, and that's exactly what I prepared to do. I took a steady breath, and looked down the scope, then fired. The bullet hit inches away from the center, though not the worst I could have done. Using Wyatt's training, I lined up my shot, fired again...and hit just the the right of the center circle. I heard a satisfied humph from my right and found Lydia's face cracking open in an amused grin.

"I see what they mean now" she remarked. For the first time, she had commented on something I had done. And it was a positive comment. That made me feel better, but also a bit too enthusiastic. So when I fired another round, it went further away from the middle, and my high hopes had gone to a low level. Though that didn't change her thoughts on me. "Keep going. You just need to focus. Let nothing else distract you." She drew in a breath of air, looked down the scope, and nothing but the scope, then fired. It hit dead center, the bullet ricocheting off the ground and going back through to end up somewhere far behind us. There were no anguished cries of pain, so it must have gone past the house as well. Or it was just a lucky miss.

"You're a nice shot." I hesitated on what to say next, afraid she may not want to answer. "How did you get so good?" She shrugged, and pulled the bolt back and forth.

"Just am" was her answer before another shot rang through the air. I guessed there was nothing more to say, so stood from the rifle, putting it on it's side, then headed towards the house. Hopefully Wyatt was in a stable enough condition to talk, and hadn't nodded off. Though that wasn't what I had to worry about. What I did have to worry about was the person on guard.

Jill was always alert, and every time someone came near, she would shoo them away unless they had an exceptional excuse to enter. Having a chat wasn't under those conditions.

I entered the comfort of the home, and when I passed the lounge room, I felt the need to sit down. I went against it, however, for I had other activities in mind. None of them included sitting down, unless you count sitting on a bed while talking to a friend. Going up the stairs, the voices of both Jill and Wyatt could be heard. Wyatt being calm and reasoning, but Jill was the entire opposite. And the subject was obvious.

"You can't leave!"

"Let's just talk about this quietly-"

"No! Let them hear! Then they can help me keep you here!" I stopped just outside, and looked into the doorway from around, with only half my head showing. I could see Jill was about to blow her head off, so I knocked, earning their attention. That made her let off a bit of steam, but she was still red, and on the verge of going purple with rage. Her plump stature was hunched over Wyatt, her face sweating.

"Jason. Come in here, boy. We were just finishing up." He cast a glance over at the short woman just as she was about to protest, but instead left, sending a quick glare at the man in bed. He only smiled innocently back, then his jade green eyes moved on to me. "I've heard that you've made a great contribution to us. Good job" his commendation made me feel better, and gave me the necessary boost to make my morning good. But there was always something to make the day go bad.

"Yes, I have. But is it enough? I still don't feel entirely...well, welcome."

"Trust me, you are. You've helped us all...Mathias would be proud." I'm not sure what his aim was of mentioning his name, but if it was to put me down, then it worked. Because I believed the opposite. I was hardly rebel material, and almost got him killed on our first meeting.

"No, he wouldn't" I argued, putting Wyatt in a state of complete surprise. "First time I met him, I almost got him killed. I abandoned my family. I couldn't even be brave enough to shoot a weapon in order to save you from that patrol. All I'm good at doing is just sitting around like some dead weight!" Wyatt laid down, but his head was upright, his mouth agape. That was only for a moment, but the surprise still lingered amongst his features.

"That is not how we think of you. You are a one of us. If you want to do more, then we can help you with that, okay?" I was hesitant at first. But it wasn't long before I decided to answer.

"Fine...But I want your help. You're the one I trust out of everyone."

"Okay." Just like that, he agreed. And that was exactly what I expected. I could depend on him. But the true question was whether or not he could depend on me.

"Thank you." I paused for a small moment, looking at the window and seeing Lydia, still training.

"She can help, you know." I looked back at him with a quirked brow, pretending not to understand the meaning behind his words. But I knew all too well. He meant that black haired woman. And even though her training would make it exceptionally easier on me, I didn't want her help. All I wanted was Wyatt's, because I trusted him over anyone else there. But under the current circumstances, I would have to. In his condition, it would be impossible for him to teach me how to better my aim, or how to find the weak points on a foe, and other combat training. And Lydia had a reputation for being good at that stuff. "Lydia is well trained. She can help you. And from what I saw not too long ago, I think you would be fine with that." of us. If you want to do more, then we can help you with that, okay?" I was hesitant at first. But it wasn't long before I decided to answer.

"Fine" I answered, my arms crossed in front of my chest. I still didn't feel comfortable, despite us getting along. But when she hears of this, that may ruin our friendship. She may soon think of me as a pest.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine." I sat down, thinking otherwise. I'd hate to see her in teacher mode, scolding me constantly. She'd be worse than Jill, and that scared me. "So I take it that you never came here to talk about boring training. What did you really come for?" I thought about the question, and realized that I hadn't come up with a subject to speak about, and only just come to talk. "How about home. What was life like before?" Just thinking about it brought back the nightmares from before. The execution. My parents. The vision of a burning town.

"Just the usual life. A cramped up town, bread for most main courses, constant patrols after curfew, everyone surrounded by a stone wall...not the good life. But I'm sure you had the good life. Right?" I asked. His look told me otherwise when his smile went upside down.

"I'll tell you. But how about I do that over a game of chess? Fancy a challenge?" I nodded, and Wyatt called out for Jill. She arrived, and left just as quickly once he requested a chess board. She arrived soon after, and placed it on a tray she brought with her, moving the tray above Wyatt's legs. He lifted the sheets from his upper body, revealing a bandaged arm in a sling. "Here's how we'll do it. After each move, the one who makes the move asks a question. While the other one makes their move, they answer that question, then ask their own. Deal?" He held out his uninjured arm, and I shook his hand in agreement.

"Deal."

Wyatt was the first to make a move. He moved the pawn second from the left forward one space.

"What's your family like?" he asked. This question I could answer easy. But i wouldn't tell him about my real parents. I didn't know them for long, so I decided to talk about my second parents.

"My mother was kind and compassionate, and she helped whoever needed aid. She was also an excellent cook, and knew some stuff on medicine and other things a doctor would know. My father was a mechanic, and showed me a lot on cars and bikes. He was kind in his own way, and was known around town." I made my move by moving one of the middle pawns forward one space, and clasped my hands together in my lap before asking a question of my own. "Did you have family before you came here?"

"Yes. I have a wife and two kids." I was surprised to find that out from him, not knowing that he had kids of his own, though I faintly remember something related to it. "And a sister." I nodded, and waited patiently for him to make his move. This time it was the pawn at the other end of the board. His strategy confused me a bit. "So what did you do to pass time?"

"Play games."

"What kind?" I sent a quick frown at him. "Right. One question." I moved a pawn at the far right forward before answering his question. I had a strategy in mind already, though some of it was based on knowing your opponent.

"I also caused a bit of trouble with friends of mine. Graffiti, playing around military buildings, basically the stupid stuff rebellious kids do these days" I replied. He seemed satisfied with my answer and nodded.

"Must have been fun." I shrugged, and followed up with my second question.

"How did you come across Mathias?" I noticed him flinch at my question. He moved a third pawn, one towards the middle in front of the bishop on the left and then followed up with an answer.

"I found him wandering the wilderness alone, close to a resistance camp I was at. I was the first face he had seen for weeks. We became friends soon after." He sighed, then asked another question. "You have any relationships, if you know what I mean by that."

"Not for you to know." In truth, I had none. My life had been pretty alone, besides my few friends and my parents. I moved the first pawn one more space forward, and signaled for him to move, but not before asking my question. And the game continued from there.

* * *

 **Wyatt's POV**

* * *

The game ended in quite the hilarious way. I had learnt some information about the boy, and these facts could prove useful to me someday. Though it went bad once the boy asked me to show him the wound. At first, he had been grossed out. Then Jill came in, and started going off at us. Then she chased the poor boy out. I had never seen him run so quick. For a split second, I wondered if he had run like that in the town? Most likely not. It must have been hard for him to leave everything he knew behind. But I swore on my life that we would help the town of Chester. Even if it cost me my own life.

In the doorway, I spotted another face. Someone who shouldn't be walking. Milo limped in, his grey tabby cat trailing behind him. Under one arm he held a book, so I suspected he planned to stay for a while. He wore his leather jacket with a grey sweatshirt and dark grey jeans and black boots. Jill would undoubtedly not approve, and send him right back.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't be up right now." I attempted to stand to help balance him, but was halted by a sudden jolt of pain up my wounded arm. His pace slowed as he came to sit down on the chair at the bedside, with hands clasped and his elbows resting against his knees.

"You should be resting, yet you played game. We are both in wrong." I found myself stunned by the truth, only managing a smirk. How could he had known? Had the buy told him? Or perhaps Jill? I guessed the latter improbable, but then so was the former, because Jason had run in the opposite direction from Milo's room, so he couldn't have seen him on the way.

"How'd you know?" I questioned curiously. There must have been some way, besides him being just outside the doorway. Or Jill would have noticed.

"That woman can be loud sometimes. Hard not to hear her" he added. I nodded in agreement. My ears were still sore from her overly loud voice. The noise she made was absolutely unnecessary. "How is arm? Good?" I looked over my arm, and shrugged my shoulders. I winced as the movement caused some pain. Though he didn't seem to notice. "Who won?"

"Neither of us. Jill came in before we had the chance to finish. But by how it was going, I would have." He had that smug all-knowing look, and I knew that he had expected that. "So what are you doing here? Come to chat, or is something else on your mind?" He leaned back, allowing his cat to jump into his lap. I reached my hand out and scratched him behind the ear. Mikhail always liked that. The cat purred as he rubbed his head against my open hand. The smooth grey fur ran through the gaps between my fingers, tickling the palm of my hand. The sensation made a smile. But when I looked up, I was met with a serious stare.

"I came to speak of next plan." Of course that's why he came in. I rolled my eyes and moved my hand to my head and scratched at my hair.

"I got nothing. We've scouted the surrounding area. No KPA patrols since we left. What else could we do?" Neither of us had an answer. I knew when he made no effort to reply, and we both sat in silence, as if we were cold statues. Only the cat moved, it's tail slowly moving above it while it stared at me with curious eyes. He was a curious animal. I pet him again, but almost jumped when it's head lifted up with lightning speed as there was a sudden knock at the door. Jill looked flushed and she went straight to the map on the desk on the other side of my bed.

"I've got news" she stated without turning her head, her fingers running along the large sheet of paper. "Command called in, and they're delivering a drop...but there's also some bad news" she added with a frustrated tone. I had one guess what it was. "The drop is at the old camp we just left." And I was right. The only was to get to it was obvious. We had to send someone. I voiced my opinion in before anyone else.

"Send Jason." At first they were stunned, then they both sighed. I guess they didn't understand how much I believed in the boy. "Please. He shouldn't run into any danger. Send someone else with him if you must." They were both hesitant. Milo rubbed his chin, thinking about it.

"It is a small package..."

"They can take the bike" Milo put in. She eyed us both, then rolled her eyes.

"Fine" Jill finally answered, disheartened slightly. "But I will be choosing who goes." She hurried off, and Milo could only give an amused huff before she was gone.

"You are sure about boy?" he asked questionably. I turned my eyes to him and nodded. I was more sure than I'd ever been. The kid was rebel material. And every single addition to our group made us stronger. I didn't think on the fact that we had lost one, because I did not want to think I was replacing Mathias. I would never replace a friend. "Why choose him?"

"He reminds me of myself. Don't you remember what I told you of myself in my younger days? I was rebellious, yet well-mannered. I was social, yet shy at times. I was alone, and lived with people who were not family." And just like me, Jason was the same. Except I still had family. He may never see his again.

"You are too kind" the Russian said with a smirk. I shrugged with a smile. He was right. My kindness was a strength, but also a weakness. As soon as I set eyes on that boy, I knew he would be useful. And even if he wasn't, I still would have taken him in with open arms.

"Not sure if you mean that in a good way or a bad way." Milo waved a hand dismissively and sat back and began reading to himself, and his cat leaped to the bed and lay at my feet, drifting into a sleep. His fur warmed my feet, and soon I started to feel sleepy. I dreamed a memory of a few years ago. When my sister came to Denver for me.

* * *

 **Finally. That took a while to complete. And yes, that was a reference to Demo's story 'Homefront: Liberation'. Also, another vote that can change the story.**

 **Who will go with Jason? It can be anyone _but_ Wyatt and Milo (because they are injured). Leave your answer in a review or a PM. See you all in the next chapter(possibly a week), and hope to hear from you readers soon.**


	11. Arc I: Stalked

_One thing I learned is that nowhere is safe. At every corner, there's something that can kill you._

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 **Pennsylvanian Country, 13:58 15th March 2037, Jason's POV**

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The room was quiet. And even though I enjoyed quiet, it annoyed me at the time. I just felt so bored, with nothing but a tennis ball I found, bouncing it against the wall across from the single bed I laid upon then catching it, only to toss it again. There was more in this room than the last one I had stayed in, including a bookshelf with a few books that had been left here and a small chest of drawers next the head of the bed, a lone lamp sitting on top of it. Most of the furniture was made of wood, pine being my best guess. But the bed was made of metal, with a small crest-like shape at the top of the head. The curtains were opened, so the room was bathed in light.

After one more bounce, I caught it, but did not throw back as I sat up to face the door at the other side of the room. I beckoned to whoever was outside, "Come in!" The door knob turned slowly, and the wooden door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was someone I didn't expect Jill to be standing there, a hand on her hip. She didn't look too happy. Then again, when did she?

"You are needed. So get your ass moving out this door and to the barn!" I sat there with a confused look, and began moving after seeing her steel glare. That was enough to get me out of there, knowing how angry she could get. I hurried myself through the house, almost falling down the stairs. If I had, I would have been glad no one was around. It was a good thing the front door was open, or I would have had to worry about an injury to my face, around the center. I had to admit, I was curious about what they needed me for. I had been thinking myself as pretty much useless in the field, so it must have been Hank wanting help. But then I recalled all the others who were much more capable than me at his role, so that just confused me more. I soon, however, had a suspicion as I saw Hank and Lydia by a motorcycle. She was leaning against the red wall of the barn's side with a scoped M14 rifle by her side, and the mechanic was using his wrench on the bike. I didn't recognize the model, but I knew how to ride a motorbike. My father had got me to help him at his work, and one day a KPA officer came over with a motorbike in tow. He said he wanted it fixed in three days. My father did it in less than an hour, and had me test it. I got in trouble at first when we got caught, but my father's reasoning was enough to get us off the hook.

My eyes moved to Lydia's rifle. It had a brown leather strap running from the back of the barrel to the butt of the gun. All over it had been painted over with a forest multi-cam, and a net covered the body of the gun with strands of fake grass on it, making it look like it would blend perfectly in a grass field. The ACOG scope ran along the top of the rifle, just ahead of the bolt. Lydia had dark black jeans and a combat vest with green camo. The shirt underneath was the camo as the gun, making her almost the perfect camouflaged soldier. Her jet black hair was tied back into a ponytail, hanging past her shoulder blades, and only a few strands of hair hanged down above her eyes.

"Look who finally showed up." Hank lifted his head to see who she meant to find me, and a grin spread across. "Are you ready?"

"What for? Jill was absent on the details." I wasn't given an answer. Instead, Lydia walked up to me and placed a gun in my hands. It was an M9 pistol, with a black camo. It sent a feeling through me. A feeling of fear, and as I pieced it all together, I realized why I was called here.

"We need to pick something up from the old base. And from what I was told, Wyatt wants you to go." Of course. That guy still wanted me to prove myself. He had put too much faith in me, and that faith would get someone killed. But at least I could show off another one of my skills. Before she could retrieve her rifle and mount the bike, I was already on, looking over the handles. Both cocked a brow towards me in confusion.

"I know how to drive one of these. And since you're a better shot, you can ride on the back." She nodded, but I could tell by her face that she knew that wasn't the whole truth of why I wanted to drive. Yet she went along. I had to admit, she was...different. I had never met a woman like her. She was friendly when you got to know her, but would still sometimes act bitchy, as one would say. And she was barely friendly in the open.

She climbed onto the rear of the seat and held the sides, being careful not to have any of her touching me. I started the rev the bike when Hank backed away, and it wasn't too long before we lurched forward. I arched forward, my head almost resting on the handles of the bike. And once the farm was outside, I felt arms go around me.

"You tell anyone, and I rip your balls off." I gulped and nodded, going back to focusing on the road ahead.

* * *

 **Lydia's POV**

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Jason had told me the truth, since the ride had been smooth. He handled the bike like it was his own, though if I hadn't held on, I may have fallen off. But it did make me feel uncomfortable, and I think I scared him with my threat. Maybe I was a bit harsh with it, but that was just how I was. Ever since my _father_ left me and my mother, I had grown a distaste for people. Then Wyatt had come along, and I began trusting again. And even though I hadn't gained his full trust, the kid was starting to grow on me.

We came to a stop in front of our old base. The old warehouse, which had been my first home after my mother's death. If I hadn't been found, I would still be wandering the streets like the alley rat I had been. I pushed those memories back before they distracted me from the present. My rifle was slung over my shoulders, and I armed myself with my holstered Glock 18 pistol, holding it at the hip and wandered over to the large building. We were outside the large double doors where we would store the vehicles. Looking back, I saw Jason putting the bike upright and making sure it would stay that way, then started walking towards me.

"Arm yourself." I noticed he was hesitant at first, then took out his pistol, but in a slow fashion. Now I could see what was wrong with him, as his hand shook slightly for a second. He was afraid of handling a weapon in the field. Which was odd, since he was good at firing a weapon. Did that mean he was afraid of killing? Perhaps I would have to bring it up with him, but not now. It would only distract him. But there was something I could do. "Jason-"

"Yes?" he asked back, and quite quickly at that.

"How about you holster your weapon. Just watch my back, and if you see something, tell me. Okay?" He nodded and with a quick movement the weapon was back. He must have been quite anxious with it in his hands. "Jason. Open this door, will you?" He stepped forward and grabbed the handle of the large door, and pulled as he walked sideways with it. My arm went up, my second hand holding the bottom of the grip. There was a sigh of relief when I scanned the room, finding it empty. We moved inside, and I turned on the small flashlight on the underside of the barrel.

"So where is this package we are getting?" he asked curiously. I answered without turning.

"We have a platform on the roof. We'll be taking a stairwell to the roof, and it's not too far." He looked at me with a surprised expression, raising an eyebrow with it as he went into the large hall lined with the rooms that were once our sleeping quarters.

"Wait, there are stairs here?" I nodded, a grin showing up on my face. "I never even noticed a way onto the roof. Or a stairwell. Where is it?" I pointed ahead to a door at the other end of the hall on the left. He didn't say a word, and judging by the look on his face, he might have felt stupid. Who misses the only door that looks different to all the others down the hall. Going down that hall brought back memories. I recalled the day I arrived here, and this hall was full of everyone, asking Wyatt where he had been and what he did, not bothering about the scared nineteen year old woman he brought with him.

I froze for a second, imagining myself there. Remembering the fear I felt with so many people around. It took all my willpower to return, the vision disappearing and becoming the old hall it was at present time. Luckily Jason didn't notice me space out. He was in fact ahead of me, almost at the door. I hurried to him before he could notice me being a bit behind and was behind him when he turned to me.

"Are you ready?" I nodded, keeping my weapon raised with the top of the pistol leveled with my eyes and my arms stretched out in front of me. Once again, nothing was on the other side. Nothing bad, at least. The stairs went for five flights, and they were all made up of metal. On the right side of the stairs, the railing spiraled up, but on the left there was the plain cement wall. Just as it had been when we left. I tested the first step, in case they had loosened in the short time they had not been used. It only creaked, but didn't move, so I continued up, taking it slow. I motioned with my left hand for him to follow, and he did so, taking it slow behind me. Every creak made me cringe, fearing that one of these steps wouldn't be able to take our weight. I balanced every step, taking it easy on the way up. Even the railing wobbled a bit as we held on. But it was soon over as we reached the top. I sighed once more with relief, my pistol hand by my side. I raised the other, and found it to be shaking, which was odd. Though it wasn't odd to find the boy's whole body shaking. He must have really been scared. I grinned at him, finding it somewhat amusing.

"You scared of heights?" He glared at me coldly.

"There's a difference between being afraid of heights, and being afraid of falling..and dying. And my fear is the latter." My eyes rolled and I turned away. "What, aren't you afraid of going splat against the hard ground?" he rebuked sarcastically. I ignored him, walking out onto the bridge we had made on top of the roof. The sun was hidden by the clouds, unlike what it was when we had arrived. It was almost dusk, so we had to hurry before it got too dark. And when it was dark, that's when the bad things came out of the shadows. Across the bridge was the platform, and sitting on top was a small case. I found myself surprised, because when they said small, I expected something a little bigger then a standard briefcase. Not something the size of a lunch box.

"That's it? We came all this way for a little tin? This can't even hold a gun! What's the use of it?!" I screamed in anger, kicking at the package. If not for the parachute attached to it, it would have gone sailing over the edge. Jason leapt forward and grabbed the chute, then pulled it up before trying to find an opening.

"What do you think it is?" I hadn't bothered to answer, since I was too focused on something in the shadows of the large building. The glint of steel was enough to send a chill down my spine.

"We need to go. Now." He sent me a confused look, then went back to inspecting the small tin.

"Hold on. I almost got-" I snatched it out of his hands, holstering my pistol with the other hand.

"Now!" I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him to his feet, and then ran. I could hear his heavy footsteps against the metal behind me. The metal groaned under us, and that was enough to tell me that it would give way soon. Very soon. I stretched my strides further, then once it was within reach, jumped to the door, afraid the flooring beneath me would give way. It was a mistake, though, as I nearly sent myself tumbling down the metal stairs. And I would have, if Jason didn't skid to a halt behind me, almost collecting me and sending us both down.

"Are we going?" He seemed awfully rushed, and I had to resist the urge of kicking him down the stairs. At a steady pace, I went down the steps with him a couple of steps behind. However, I stopped myself from going further. It all happened as if time had slowed down.

First, there was the groaning of metal, and a haunting tap of steel against metal, the occasional scrape. Then, the steps in front of me suddenly burst open, a dark blur flying up through the new gap. I found myself on my back, my spine aching from the contact against the hard stairs. Before me was the top half of a metallic monster, like something from a nightmare. It was a midnight black, with a red stripe running down it's forelegs. A single red eye glowed in the center of it's panther-like head, and razor claws from it's paws. Then something at it's jawline began to glow, and I knew what was to come. Before it could use the stunners, I whipped out my Glock and fired into it's face. It let out a piercing screech, and fell back, taking a couple of stairs with it. Quickly pulling myself up, I looked over the gap. We could make it in a single leap, but the question was whether the stairs would hold our weight. I turned back, seeing Jason still on his back, his eyes wide with terror.

"Get up! We need to leave before it comes back!" He didn't respond, so I did the first thing that came to mind. And as it turned out, the shin was a really sensitive place. He yelped and frowned at me angrily. But only for a second when I turned back away and made my jump. I almost fell back, yet the railing had saved me. It shifted a little, though I still had a grip. Whirling around, I beckoned Jason over. He was hesitant, that was until there was something heard above us. Without another second of thought, he jumped forward. I grabbed him, almost falling backwards. After regaining our balance, we started down the last flights of stairs, running the rest of the way down. I let him run past, holding my gun at his head level. I then proceeded to follow him down the hall. Halfway down the hall, the robot burst through the door. I could see it was a different one, and it gave us a full view of it's body. Most of it resembled a large cat, except for the fact it had no tail and no mouth. It's shoulders were pointed and slanted towards the back, the front and side of it's legs covered in plated armor. The back legs were smaller, and had a rounded top that didn't further than the boundary of the socket it was held in. The back of it was humped towards the middle front, just before the neck. It had a flat chest under it's neck where two small pointed objects pointed out, being hooks attached to cables. Where the mouth should be, it had two electric stunners, capable of firing at medium ranges or touch contact to stun it's victims, with different power ranges, and sometimes being lethal. On it's paws, it had four razor sharp claws, the rear paw's claws being more shorter than the fore paws. When standing on all fours upright, the top of the small hump reached my shoulders. And in the center of it's head was that single, haunting red eye.

It must have had some kind of speaker on it somewhere, because from it came a snarl, followed by it taking a step forward, it's claws tapping at the ground. I slowly began backing away, Jason right behind me.

"Go. I'll deal with it." I didn't have to ask twice, because he ran without any argument. At the same time, his sudden motion had set off the machine. It came charging forward with a mechanical roar, it's claws reaching forward towards me. I fired a round into the central eye, and it tried to halt, but it's claws got caught in the cement, and it flipped over onto it's back. I quickly walked over and fired another into it's chin, finishing it off, before going to follow Jason. On my way, I holstered my pistol into it's holster on my belt around my waist and unslinged the rifle from my shoulder, then brought it to my shoulder. I walked at a fast pace, keeping my aim steady. The sounds I heard heralded the arrival of many more of those killer machines, and that made me want to get out more. I came out of the hall and into the vehicle bay, where Jason waited.

"What the hell was that thing?!" I was about to answer, if a third one hadn't come down the hall. I fired back with my rifle, hitting it dead center. But it only served as a distraction, as another robot dropped right on top of me, and using one of it's steel paws, it swiped my rifle away, with one of it's claws slicing into my cheek. The cut stung, but I couldn't worry about that at the time. I was about to reach for my holstered pistol, but it quickly pinned my arms down before I could. The large red eye stared at me, lighting my face with a bright red glow. The legs were heavy against my arms. The pain was becoming too much, and I had a feeling that at any time soon, they would snap under the weight. At that time, I knew this was the end. What a way to go. But my hope was restored when a bullet made contact with the joints behind the shoulder armor, and turned to find Jason with his M9 raised. He stood at an angle that allowed him to fire at the vulnerable position. It flinched, bringing it's injured leg up high enough for me to move my free arm and retrieve my Glock. One bullet later, the machine was gone, falling onto it's side. Jason came over and with his spare hand, pulled me to my feet. I ran without another word as two more came, one of them being the first we encountered. I held the boy's arm tight, pulling him through the door and to the bike, picking and slinging my M14 on the way. He stared it and I sat on the bike, and when we lurched forward, I watched as the warehouse disappeared into the distance, the monstrous machines with it. Once I was sure we were safe, I holstered my pistol and tugged at my slinged rifle.

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 **Jason's POV**

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Along the road, we had almost crashed a few times, but that wasn't my fault. Well, not entirely. My heart was in my throat, and my head spinning, trying to grab a hold on reality. Those things, they were definitely not living. I had never seen such a thing, even in the KPA's ranks. And even still, I did not know what they were called. Lydia had been silent, and I had been too afraid, the image of the metal beasts fresh in my mind. Their dreaded razor claws, the awful glow of the red orb in their heads, and the sounds they made. You could swear there was an animal underneath all the steel, bred only to kill.

By the time the day had grown dark, we had finally reached the farm. Lydia hopped right off, but my hands were tight around the handlebars. It took all my willpower to pry my fingers from the rubber. I looked over at the black haired woman. She hadn't even thanked me for saving her life yet. Though I didn't jump to conclusions, realizing she may have been afraid as well. I had seen it in her eyes as the metal beast was above her, staring down with the red eye. Still, it would have been nice for a little gratitude. Maybe Wyatt would thank me for it. Coincidentally, he came as soon as I thought his name. His arm was in a sling, and I found it surprising he was out. Less surprising to find Jill with him.

"Did you get it?" he asked calmly, not noticing the scar on her cheek, for she had it turned away from him. She held out the small tin, which Jill took, almost snatching it. It didn't take log for her to open it, and when I saw her do so, I felt stupid. All you had to do was turn the lock on the latch, then lift it open. Wyatt wasn't focused on the contents, instead seeing a bruise on Lydia's arm. "What happened?" Lydia turned her face, only confusing Wyatt even more. Until she spoke.

"Stalkers. Stalkers were waiting for us." Wyatt said no more, and hurried off without Jill, with Lydia in tow. Whatever a Stalker was, it must have been bad news. I followed along, almost tripping when Jill suddenly ran past. They had all gone to the house, where I found them congregating in Wyatt's room.

"Jason! Quickly, come in" Wyatt called from his bed, sitting on it. Milo sat on the chair next to it with Lydia standing behind him, and Jill at her desk, inspecting the contents of the package we retrieved. Before anyone could speak, I beat them to it.

"Can I ask a question...what the hell were those things?!" Everyone stopped and looked towards me, then Milo answered. His voice had a grave touch to it.

"Stalkers. They are the hounds of the KPA, and strike fear in all men. They look like large cats, but act like wolves, have strength of bears and stalk the countryside at night. They are used commonly to capture prisoners, but can be used for killing. Most times, they travel in packs of six, one being an alpha." Just that word made me fear them more. From seeing those things, what would an alpha be like? Wyatt was next to speak.

""Many dread them. But I find it odd that you've never heard of them. Then again, they aren't very common in these parts. Those bastards will jump you, and you wouldn't have any time to react. And some are equipped with optical camouflage, which works best at dark." He turned to Lydia, leaving me to think on what he said. "We'll have to tighten up security. Lydia, I want you on patrol tonight. You see a Stalker, do not engage alone." She nodded, and then left the room. "Jason, get some rest. I have a feeling that there's gonna be some long nights ahead of us." I nodded, and left, almost walking into Lydia.

"Sorry about that" I quickly apologized before going past. But I didn't get too far as she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Wait." I glanced back with a brow raised curiously. "I..I want to thank you. For before." I had a smug grin. "I could have died, and yet, the one person I doubted to do so, saved me." My smug grin disappeared and reformed into a frown. "I'm not saying your incapable of shooting at things!" she added quickly, and my frown disappeared.

"You're welcome." With that, I smiled and when she let go of my arm, I went to my room. Shutting the door behind me, I grabbed the ball and went away bouncing, knowing I wouldn't get to sleep with those Stalkers still fresh on my mind.

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 **So that's another chapter. Hope you all enjoyed, and see you next time :)**


	12. Arc I: Under The Wall

**There are some chances you have to take, no matter the risk. Because these chances only come once. And sometimes, missing it could mean the difference between the death of one, and the death of many.**

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 **Pennsylvanian Country, 04:15 16th March 2037, Jason's POV**

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A familiar voice roused me awake in what seemed to be the middle of the night. Once I opened my eyes and the images of the reality around me came into focus, I found Wyatt standing at my door. He had a black jacket over one shoulder, and his skull cap over his head. He had a grey shirt and khaki trousers with black hiking boots. In his right hand, he held his pistol. Halfway up his left arm was the bandage covering the wound. There was no dry blood seeping through, so it must have been fresh. It didn't seem to me like it hurt him to move his arm. At least, it didn't look like it at all. I knew how good he was at hiding his pain, his fear, and his sadness.

"You won't believe what we found in that box" he began blissfully. The scariest thing about this guy was that he seemed to always be cheerful, or calm in all situations. At least, all I had seen.

"Someone's old lunch?" I remarked, hoping to be funny. Now, if it were Jill, she would have just rolled her eyes, or possibly glared. But Wyatt was something else. He instead chuckled at my joke, no matter how bad it was.

"Very funny, but no. What you acquired was information on a supply route that runs through GKR territory with a high concentration of military force. A manifest, and it's got times for supply runs, and guess where it leads?" I did have one guess, but I chose not to answer. "Chester." Just as I had suspected. And that also gave me an idea of what we were about to do.

"Are we hitting that road?" Wyatt nodded. He began to turn away, but stopped midway to glance at me, and opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm letting you come along because we have intelligence on the possibility that the supplies they are bringing are drones. And from what Lydia explained about the situation at the old base with the Stalkers, you do well against them. So here's the deal: you can deal with the drones, and we'll deal with the rest. That sound good?" I nodded. It was a good thing to know that he cared for the members, and assigned them to what they were comfortable with. He knew that I couldn't handle killing a person, so he left the robots with me. He waved me to follow and left into the lit up hallway.

I lifted myself from the bed and grabbed my dark jacket from the chair. On the way out, I began draping it over my arms and back, then went on to zipping up the front. On the way down the stairs, I saw Milo resting against a pillar on the porch. It looked like his leg was doing fine. I sent a smile at him on passing by with a small wave.

"Do good out there, _mal'chik_. And don't even think about coming back injured." I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"I'll make sure not to, Ruski. You get better, alright?" He waved dismissively, moving his eyes down to his leg.

Swiftly, I moved across the yard to where Wyatt and Lydia stood waiting, with two others. They waited by the barn. Lydia sat on a crate, examining her M14 rifle. Her attire consisted of jet black jeans and a black shirt with camo overalls and black hiking boots, with a khaki cap.. Wyatt was talking to one of the others, and the other was having a smoke. He stopped when he saw me from the corner of his eye, and finished up with his discussion.

"Jason. I'd like you to meet Ron and Artie. Code names are Hammer and Axe."

Ron was the one talking to Wyatt. He had blonde hair with his fringe poking out from under a black bandanna, with blue eyes and a small amount of hair on his chin. He had a brown shirt with khaki overalls and brown sneakers.

Artie was the one taking a cigarette. He had brown hair with a mullet, and his fringe split at the front. His eyes were a hazel underneath bushy brows. He had a full black outfit with a grey striped scarf with black stripes around his neck.

"They're going to be supporting us in this mission." They all started towards the side door of the barn, where the van waited inside. The back doors were already open, with a few weapons on the floor of the inside of the van. Wyatt took an M4 rifle with a red dot sight and gave me an M9 pistol. Ron took an M1014 shotgun, and Artie took a different M4, this time with ACOG and an under-barrel shotgun. With the pile were several magazines and a couple of small cylindrical objects called pipe bombs with fuses about half a ruler length. I was about to jump in when I was grabbed by the shoulder and whirled around.

"Remember what I told you. Aim for the eye" Lydia reminded. I nodded, remembering perfectly where to hit a Stalker. Right in the eye, where all their core circuitry was. She pushed past me and hopped in, and I followed. Wyatt was the last to go in and closed the back double steel doors behind him. Ahead of the van, the large barn doors opened. And once they were fully agape, we lurched forward out into the cleared yard, then headed out under the arch beside the boundary fences, leaving the farm behind.

* * *

We traveled off road, following the dirt road through the country to our destination, but from a distance. For a while, we saw nothing but the stretching empty fields and the dirt road close by. The sun had risen as we drove, so I could see it wasn't as early as I had expected. I had my pistol holstered in my belt. My legs were shaking out of nervousness, unlike the others. Artie and Ron were in the front of the van, Wyatt was between the door and me and Lydia across from us, next to the side sliding door.

"Hey kid? You feeling okay?" I nodded. obviously lying. And she could tell, but with her usual self, she didn't push on with it. Wyatt, on the other hand, did.

"You'll do fine. Trust me." I looked at him to see hope in his eyes. I saw why he was seen as the leader of this band of freedom fighters. He was an uplifting sort, never looking on the negative side of things. And no matter how hilarious you'd think he was, he always managed to keep some seriousness to it. And even though he would rather I didn't, I saw him as a leader.

I had to raise my hands against the wall inside between the driver seat and the part we were in to stop myself from hitting it as the van came to a sudden halt, swerving to the side a bit. The others seemed unmovable, not even flinching at the sudden stop.

"Everyone pile out!" someone in the front shouted. Wyatt pushed the double doors open, holding his pistol up with the other hand. Everyone but me and one of the front men emptied out of the van, sweeping the area for hostiles.

"It's all clear. Get everything ready" he ordered. His voice held no emotion, yet held authority. Ron and Lydia grabbed the items I passed to them from the back of the van, such as spare ammunition, a medical kit, a bag of pipe bombs and M40 sniper rifle for Lydia. She put the strap over her left shoulder and packed a couple of spare magazines into one of the pockets on her belt. After everything was out, I myself climbed out and closed the doors behind me. Artie was to stay behind with the van, so he stayed in the front seat. Ron took the lead, holding his shotgun up to his shoulder with his eye lined down the sights. Wyatt stayed on his back, I took his and Lydia had all of ours, walking backwards with her own rifle raised. Wyatt had his held against his chest at an angle, but at any sign of danger he would raise it. I had my own weapon at my side. Truthfully, I was pretty scared. Not only would there be Stalkers, but also some KPA soldiers and whatever else the KPA had with the convoy. Though nothing could top how I had felt back at Chester, when I finally left. Ahead of us I could see the asphalt road where the target would be going along. Lydia stopped and set up on a small mound, and the rest of us moved forward. We took our positions behind a rock, kneeling by it. I kneeled in the middle, with my back to the road.

"Now what?" I queried curiously. Wyatt seemed focused on something, so Ron answered for him without turning around to me.

"We wait. On the manifest, it said they'll be here in half an hour or so." I sighed impatiently. I may be a patient person, but sitting here in the dirt for that long in the dirt, I knew my ass would be numb. But as it turned out, we didn't have to wait long for _something_ to come. Cause something did.

 _"There's movement on the road"_ came Lydia's voice on the walkie-talkie.

"I copy" Wyatt radioed back, then shouldered his weapon over the rock. Ron did the same, and I sat back, my weapon raised aiming upwards above my shoulder. Just waiting for the shooting to come. Yet it never came.

"Hold fire! We got unarmed heading this way!" I peeked around to where everyone else was looking to see two figures in the distance. One was about my height, and the other slightly taller, with a misshapen bulge going along their chest. Wyatt was first to leave the safety of the rock, laying his rifle against the side of it and began walking over to the silhouettes. Whatever he could see that made them harmless, I couldn't. All I saw were two shadows. "Ron. Scan the road for contacts." The rebel turned away form us and down the road, kneeling on the dirt with his weapon raised and slowly turning from side to side. Not wanting to wait around, I followed Wyatt halfway, only to stop when I saw the figures in the light. The one on the left was a young male teen, wearing a torn shirt and pants, his face covered with dirt. The other did not in fact have a bulge, but was carrying a young boy, at least seven or something around there. The one carrying the child was an old woman, and just like the older boy, her clothes were torn as well. Wyatt and I rushed over before the woman began to collapse. I grabbed her while Wyatt took the child. And seeing her face brought a whole wave of shock to me. Her eyes creaked open, looking like they had almost sunken into the back of her head, and she had confusion lining her face.

"J-Jason?" I nodded, holding her head up so she could see me clearly. Her voice was hoarse, her breath quick. "W-what are you d-doing here...What am _I_ d-doing here? W-where am I?" She looked around in confusion. I held my other hand up, holding one of her hands and found it to be cracked along her knuckles. There were grazes lining her arms and knees, like she'd been crawling through a tunnel of gravel. Glancing back at her face, I could see the effects of dehydration taking hold. Her lips were cracked, bleeding as well.

"She's delirious" Wyatt assessed. "The boy's unconscious. Check the other boy." I nodded and laid the woman down gently to look over the teen, who was laying on the ground himself, eyes closed. Just like the woman, his lips were cracked, and his skin pale. I hadn't seen him before, but when I opened his eyes, I knew I had seen them before. That proved my suspicions correct. The old woman was a widower, with her two grandchildren. I knew because I had watched her husband's brains get blown out on the execution stage towards the start of this month. She was the farmer's wife.

"We need to get her out of here" I said. Wyatt nodded and took the woman by both arms, lifting her carefully by placing his arms under her upper back and knees. I picked the teen boy up and held him against my shoulder, since he was starting to wake. He trudged on, leaning against me. Ron, who had run over, took the youngest of the three, carrying him close to his chest. When we made our way past Lydia, she was already packing up her rifle.

"What about the convoy?" Lydia asked with a concerned tone to her voice. I couldn't believe her then. She was more worried about the mission then these people. But as it turned out, she was just curious.

"They need medical aid" Wyatt replied, passing her by. She stuck with that answer and followed behind, keeping an eye and barrel towards the road. We piled into the van after placing the three civilians carefully on the floor of the vehicle. Everyone else but Wyatt sat in their seats, and the van took off, taking it nice and slow. Wyatt looked over the civilians, starting with the youngest and moving onto the oldest. As he did, he summarized their conditions.

"Several lacerations along the arms...Cracks along lips and knuckles...Grazing along arms...Sunken eyes...Case of delirium...unconsciousness to the children; Cause is dehydration. We need to get to base fast."

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Artie called back. All I could think of doing was stare down at them, full of regret. Whatever had happened was somehow linked to my escape, I was sure of it. And that's all I did on the way back to camp.

* * *

I rushed into the house of the farm to find the best person of medical training we had. The van waited just outside with the sliding door wide open. After searching the first floor, I moved to the second and found her in Wyatt's room. She was looking over maps before she craned her head towards me, confused at my panicked state.

"We've got civilians in need of medical care." She sighed and pushed her chair back.

"What did Wyatt do this time?" she murmured to herself. "Lead the way." On the way out, she picked up a bag of medical supplies that she always had handy. I led her out of the house, and she went the rest of the way while I stopped on the porch where Milo watched from in his wheelchair. He looked on in a concerned interest, with two fingers resting underneath his chin and occasionally rubbing it. I sat down on a chair next to him on a wooden chair, rocking it forward as I pulled a hand downwards along my face.

"Something wrong, boy?" I didn't answer. I was too deep in thought, filled with regret. There was no way that none of this was my fault. If I had stayed...Shaking it off, I looked up with hazy eyes.

"This is my fault. They suffered because I left. I just know it" I stammered. It may have seemed to him that I was trying to convince him. But in fact, I was actually trying to convince myself.

"There is nothing to take blame for. What happened was not your doing, but could be whoever leads garrison" he explained with his thick Russian accent. Part of me agreed, but the other side of my mind still stayed with my original thoughts.

"It is. They are being punished for something I did." My eyes moved to the wooden planks that made up the floor of the porch. "I did this. And now, people are probably dying." There was a muscular grasp on my shoulder, being Milo's hand.

"We all hold regret for something. Whether we did it, or we did not do it." That made me feel a little better, but it did not rid me of the guilt.

I lifted my gaze as multiple people went by, carrying the civilians inside. I followed closely, desperately trying to look over their shoulders. The two boys were taken upstairs, while the widowing wife went to the lounge room with Wyatt and Jill. I followed her and sat some distance away from the others. She stirred awake, and began looking at her surroundings.

"W..where am I?" she asked, confused.

"You are in a resistance camp. We found you barely alive, and brought you back here. You and your children are safe, I swear." A wave of relief washed away the anxious expression on the old woman's face. "Now then, can you tell us what happened at Chester? How did you escape? Are there any others?" I was about to argue, thinking Wyatt was overwhelming her with questions. But he in fact was not, as she answered all the questions with a long explanation.

"Well, it began some time ago. After someone escaped past the wall, the garrison became stricter. People began to rebel. Not too soon after came the...the drones. Those mechanical _beasts_. They began picking us off one by one on the streets, taking those they took somewhere. We never saw where." She paused, sadness becoming visible on her face. "I took my grandchildren and, along with several others, made our way to find an exit. We found a sewer that was unguarded, and escaped. But...only we made it. Everyone else died before reaching the sewer entrance." Jill stopped the old widower right there.

"Wait. This sewer you escaped through, is it still unguarded?"

" _I don't know_! Do you really think I would have looked back as everyone else _died_?!" She went into a coughing fit, going red-faced. I hurried over and tried my best to stop it, and was successful. She narrowed her eyes at Jill, but I noticed the tinge of sorrow in them. Whoever she had lost must have been close to her.

"Jill. Can you please leave for a moment?" Wyatt requested respectfully, giving her a calm, yet stern look. And that was enough. She stood from her own seat and left, going up the stairs to help care for the young boys. "Now, please continue. This information is vital." The woman sighed, her head hanging low. I kneeled next to her and held her hand, and when she finally noticed my presence, she smiled. There was no hate in her eyes, only kindness.

"There's a group of people who have been disrupting the garrison inside the walls. They have been trying to get help, but have never gotten anywhere close to their goal." Wyatt patted her hand gently in a gesture of gratitude.

"Thank you. Now rest." She nodded and her head fell against the side of the soft velvet chair, her eyes closing until she went into a deep sleep. Wyatt stood, his expression changing back to serious. He went up the stairs, but I stayed by the woman's side. Even still, my regretful thoughts were not put to rest. And now I had to wonder who out of all the people in Chester would be part of the rebelling movement. No doubt the friend I left behind is one of them. Heck, he was probably leading them.

I sat across from the widower for..well, I had forgotten how much time had passed. But when I looked at the glass window behind me, I saw it was around midday. Most of everyone who wasn't in the house was hard at work, either working in the barn or training or just moving boxes around. No idea why we were still moving them around. When I last checked, we didn't have too many. And yet still I was seeing new ones coming and going. Frankly, it was boring. But I couldn't just leave the poor woman. Even after whatever time had passed, she was still in a bad state.

I was alerted to the sound of someone coming by drawing my attention to Wyatt. I stood up, and he turned to me attentively with an unsure look. Obviously, he had news he didn't want to share. And being me, I had to know. Especially if it involved my home town.

"Are we going to be doing anything, or are we just going to wait it out, wait for them to leave after everyone is dead?" I asked, knowing what he would say. Knowing him, even though it's been a short time since I'd first met him, he would probably wait for the US army to come. How wrong I was.

"No. We aren't leaving the people of Chester to die. We're moving in by the way they got out" gesturing to the old woman sleeping on the couch. That earned a glad smile from me. But as I stood to follow, my mood changed. "But _you_ aren't coming. It's much to dangerous for someone like you." I stood there with mouth agape. How could he _do_ that? Prevent me from returning to my own home? It just wasn't right, and I was not going to have anything of it.

"Y-you can't!" I stammered, but he raised a hand against me.

"No. You may have some training, but you are definitely not prepared to face an army. We are." I narrowed my eyes, and tried to push past him outside. But he blocked the way, forcing me back towards the chair and seated me.

"Let me go!"

"No!" I froze at his stern, harsh tone. "Listen to me!" He sighed, calmed himself down, then continued with a more quiet voice. "It is dangerous for someone with the amount of training you have had...I'm not even sure we will survive" he finished. His last words were filled with fear, and that was enough to convince me. Slightly.

"I _want_ to go. I don't care if I don't fight. Just as long as I can come." He remained hesitant, scratching at the neatly shaven stubble on his chin. The short silence was broken by his response.

"Fine." His tone made it seem like he wasn't too happy about it, but he wasn't done yet. "But you will be staying outside of the wall, with Milo and Lydia, and guard the entrance there." I nodded, grateful I was making some kind of contribution. "Good. Then let's get going." Finally letting me stand, we both went outside where everyone was standing by in a line.

"I still say we should wait for the army to arrive and help." Wyatt rolled his eyes at Jill.

"There _is_ no time to wait." She shrugged and stood at Wyatt's side, looking over the line. I joined the line, standing next to Ron. "I'm sure you have all heard about the survivors we brought back. As it turns out, they escaped from the town of Chester." There was distinct, unsure murmuring from the line. "So some of you are probably wondering what we do next. And some of you have possibly guessed correct. So to put your suspicions to rest, I shall answer: we are going to liberate Chester." The murmurs became an uproar of disagreement.

"Shut up! Everyone, just shut up!" Everyone jumped at Jill's loud and harsh roar. Even Wyatt looked scared.

"T-thank you Jillian. Now, back to the matter at hand, I will need to assemble a team to come with me. A quarter of us will stay back here, including Jill, and the rest will head to the city with the rest of us. One of the civilians we rescued has volunteered to lead us to the sewer entrance. We are to protect him _at all costs._ Understood?" Everyone nodded affirmatively, then headed towards the barn.

We all moved to a line of four white plastic tables. On each table was a set of weapons and equipment that was to be used. It ranged from grenades and other small equipment to pistols and small-machine guns to rifles and shotguns.

I took an M9 and a Diablo SMG, with a red-dot sight and extended stock. Lydia held what she had taken before when we hit the road, as did Wyatt, Ron and Artie. We piled into the van and the Wrangler. With weapons and equipment ready, and inside our vehicles, we launched our way out of the farm. Wyatt had me sit in the front passenger seat of the Jeep, with our car at the front. We passed around small talk here and there, though we stopped when Wyatt gave us the signal to.

"Jason. You want to know why I didn't want you to come? Then look" he pointed in the distance with a steel gaze. I followed his index finger to find something that struck fear in my heart.

"Is that-"

"No. Not the whole of it. Just what's outside the wall. The reason you never saw it before is because we took you out from a different point in the wall." I had no reply, for I could not speak. All I could do was stare at the ruined buildings. Once, they had been a part of the town of Chester. And now, they were nothing more than a crumbling suburb. And that was our destination.

* * *

We stopped just outside and exited the vehicles, scanning the outlying buildings from the outside. These were smaller than the ones further in, and had less walls, but anything could still be hiding in them.

"Jason, stay here with Lydia and Milo. The rest of you are with us. Let's move." Wyatt and the rest moved forward, leaving us behind. I pulled my self onto the back of the Wrangler, watching them disappear into the rubble of the outer suburb.

"Don't worry, dear boy. They be safe. Wyatt has not led us astray yet, no?" I looked down at the Russian in his wheelchair. Lydia stood by his side, keeping watch. "Though I do miss being by his side, with double-barrel in hand." I nodded in agreement, hating the fact that we were just staying here, waiting for something to happen. All we could do was pray for their safety. And the safety of the inhabitants of Chester.

* * *

 **Outskirts Of Chester Wall, 16th March 2037, Wyatt's POV**

* * *

There we were. Thirteen of us, moving through the 'Ghost Area', as some called it. And it was aptly named, for it was now an empty shell of a part of Chester. Smoke no longer puffed up into the light sky from the chimneys, cars no longer went through the streets, no one chatted or entertained themselves in their homes. No, not in this forsaken place. Now only a dark sky shadowed it from above, with large airships drifting through it. And in the abandoned streets lingered patrols and monstrous machines of terror. _Stalkers._ Machines from one's nightmares, capable of tearing a man clean in half with it's claws, and wrapping it's paralyzed victims with it's coils after using it's tasers. And the worst part was the numbers they came in, swarming entire defense lines and forward camps.

Ahead of the group was I and Ron, with the oldest of the children we had found. He volunteered himself to lead us to the sewer entrance, where we would find our way under the wall and into the city. That was the first part of our master plan. I could hear the gunfire from inside the walls, the explosions that rocked the town inside. We had to save them. This was our only chance to do so.

"I don't like this place" complained Ron. "It gives me the willies!" I hushed him, and he quieted down, keeping his rifle shouldered. I kept my own M16 at the ready, my pistol holstered at my side. The rifle was light in my hands, as I had used them many times before. But it had not been the same case when I first used one. No, those times were much different. For the newer ones, not so much. That's why we left them behind, and kept those with more experience for the mission at hand. Our own mission. One of the reasons I could not wait was due to the fact that the US government, or what was left of it, would never sanction such an act.

"We're almost there" the young teen spoke with a quiet voice. This boy was already turning out like Jason, except seemed, dare I say it, even more braver than their first meeting with their newest recruit. He kept himself low, with his knees and back bent slightly, ready to run for cover if need be.

I stopped at the sound of some kind of groan, quickly going into a kneel and holding a fist high into the air. Everyone froze and kneeled, aiming around. As the sounds came closer, I signaled for everyone to move into the building on our right. We moved into it, taking cover at the overturned scorched tables and walls with large holes, staying in the darkness. Ron kept the boy with him, staying at the other end of the dark room. The groaning became more an more, becoming more metallic. And at that moment, I knew what was coming. My grip tightened, my pulse quickening as the Stalkers drew near. Peeking out, I saw that these ones were smaller than how Lydia had described them. The reason for this was because these were the Urban design. Being smaller allowed them to fit in smaller gaps, as well as making them faster and harder to hit. But it also made them weaker, and less stronger. Weak point was the same: _hit the eye_. That's where all the core circuitry was. I withdrew my gaze from them, but I feared it was too late. There was some mechanical whirring, then a hollow howl. My fingers itched on the trigger, ready to move and strike at them. They came closer and closer...then stopped. There was an echoing clang as someone from inside threw a rock in the distance. The Stalkers paused, then sprinted in that direction. They were gone..for now. I sighed with relief and scanned the room.

"Let's move" I whispered to whoever was near. The order passed around, and we moved further into the forbidden zone.

Further on, we finally arrived at the sewer entrance. And luckily, no guards.

"This is good." I turned around to Ron and Artie, then gave them my order. "Take the boy back. He's got us where we need to be." They nodded and began to lead him away as the rest of us entered the sewer, not knowing what awaited us.


	13. Arc I: Liberation Of Chester Part I

_**The enemy's hold over another is like a balloon being continuously filled with air. Given enough time, it will burst into chaos and rebellion.**_

* * *

 **Chester Outskirts, 11:39, 19th March 2037, Jason's POV**

* * *

How long were they going to be in there? What were they doing? Were they even alive right now, or were they in the bowels of the KPA's torture chambers? They surely had those. These questions flew threw my mind while I seated on a folding chair we had brought with us. Me, Milo and Lydia had holed up in a ruined building on the edge of the 'Dead Zone', aptly named for it being lifeless. Not even the birds would come near this place. That said something; this place was for the dead. And only them. That may have been why KPA patrols were so rare, mostly consisting of Stalkers. There had been a few close calls here and there, though they rarely ventured out this far. If they did, we'd take care of them. I had racked up a few Stalker kills, mostly thanks to the element of surprise, but Lydia took out the most with that rifle of hers. I could see why most people steered clear of her back at our base camp. She was our main lookout, Milo was our contact to base camp, as well as a listener on any transmissions from inside the walls, and I was just there. As backup. Sitting around, doing nothing.

My worries only increased as the hours passed by. It had been a couple days since Wyatt and the team had entered the sewer. We were running low on the food we had brought with us. We knew they had entered because the guide, a teenage boy who we had found earlier in the week, had come by. By now, he would be far from this place in some refuge made by whatever was left of the United States with his family. Or what was left of it.

My eyes were glued to the ground, watching a small beetle crawl by. At any moment, it could just die. Just like that. It could be from my shoe, or from some other bug, or maybe it's time could arrive. It made me think about things. About how fragile life is. That at any moment, we could just _die._ The thought sent shivers down my spine. I didn't like the idea of dying, nor killing people, and was pretty shocked at my own depressing thoughts. That's probably why I held back on that patrol some time ago. Let the others handle it. And I just sat there like the wuss I was. And I showed just how much of one I was when I was startled by someone moving over to me. But hardly anything someone would notice. Just a little jump, which probably looked like a shiver.

"You worry for them, no?" I turned my head to see who was speaking, though it was easy to tell from the thick accent. I nodded to his question, then turned back to the bug. It was gone. "They are fine. I am sure. Wyatt has been through worse." That lightened the mood a little.

"I'm sure he has...but has he ever done something like this?" That's when Milo grimaced.

"I admit, this seems _rash_ for him. But he does what he does, and I stick with him all the way." And the mood went back down. There was a short eerie silence, then a crackle sounded from the radio. Milo limped away, giving a comforting pat on the shoulder before doing so. Once he was gone, I decided to stand and stretch my legs. They had begun aching from little movement. I wobbled a bit, but gained full balance and walked a circle to get the blood flowing in my legs. As I did, I examined the surroundings. There was an ashen wardrobe, with one door blown off, to the back wall. A table with two chairs sat in the middle of the roofless room, with both chairs laying on their sides. All the chalk white walls but the back one were half their height, with the tops jagged and crumbling, darkened by the explosion that had hit this building years ago. I could still smell the smoke rising from over the wall. The heat from the smoke made me begin to sweat when combined with the heat the sun gave off. And walking didn't seem to help that.

Looking up at the wall, I spotted the rising smoke trail. And next to it was a large airship. It was much like a blimp, armed with large weapons and spotlights. On the side, it bared the insignia for the KPA. The lights scanned the town over the walls, searching for targets. It gave me more reason to fear for Wyatt's life. I let out a long sigh. This seemed hopeless. There was only a small group inside with Wyatt, and possibly a small resistance against an entire army of heavily armed personnel, monstrous robots and giant blimps with guns that can tear apart our armored van in mere seconds. The odds were severely stacked against us. Would we even survive this? Would it be possible to win? That's all I could wonder as I saw the cloud of smoke, and listened to the metallic tapping nearby-

"Get down!" Lydia's rushed whisper came, and I did as ordered. We all hit the deck and rolled to the nearest cover we could find. I moved behind one of the chairs, shaking like a leaf in the wind. The wait for the incoming terror made me anxious, and it was not as terrifying as what we waited for.

I peeked out from where I hid, only my eyes and above being visible. Though I darted back when the clawed foot came down on the top of the broken wall. The light of it's blue eye shined onto the opposite wall, and began moving along it like the searchlight of death itself, watching for it's next victim.

Once it came to the chair, I tensed up. The light made a shadow around it...and passed by. I hadn't been spotted. But we weren't out of the woods yet. It continued to pass back and forth for what seemed like a lifetime. And then, there was a piercing screech. I resisted the urge to shield my ears from the dreadful noise. Just like that, it was over. And the Stalker was gone. Yet still I waited. Waited for the all clear. It came when I got a tap on the shoulder. Milo raised a finger to his lips, signalling to be quiet. The machine may have left, but they were smart. It could have been waiting nearby, and all we had to do is make one little sound. All I could do was silently hope for Wyatt's survival.

* * *

 **Chester, 11:50, 19th March 2037, Wyatt's POV**

* * *

The ceiling rumbled under the movement of vehicles on the streets. Possibly tanks, or a lot of foot soldiers. Me and two others waited, with the hood of our hooded jumpers covering our faces, crouched against the walls, being quieter then mice trapped by a cat. In fact, that's how we felt. One wrong move, and anything could hear us. A drone was the highest possibility. Our eyes were glued to the manhole above, just waiting for it to move. For the urgent shouts of KPA troops above. Small ripples appeared in the water around the other two's knee-deep legs, but mine were still. I had my trusty USP.45 handgun in hand, ready to be brought up to shoulder height in a mere second.

"We're screwed man, screwed" one of the other's whispered with a panicked voice. My eyes dart to him, and my finger pressed to my lips in a signal for him to shut up. He shut up, covering their mouth with their spare hand. In their other hand, they held a bag with supplies. After a long wait, the shaking halted. No more footsteps or rumbling was heard. Slowly, I raised my spare hand and flicked two fingers forward. The other two nodded, and began moving forward. We slowly moved forward, my eyes sticking to the manhole.

To wrap my head around things, I reminded myself of the situation. Things had gotten worse here in Chester. During our little scouting routines, we had found areas that overlook the wall and seen executions and patrols, but nothing like this. There were massive house raids, larger executions, and that airship. That was our biggest problem. It's searchlights were made to spot targets, and transmit that to nearby patrols. But this airship was also armed with weapons. If we drove a vehicle onto the streets, it wouldn't last five seconds against it. Already, myself and the team brought in had seen how many losses the newly founded Resistance inside had suffered. And that was one of the reasons I couldn't let Jason come with us. Just seeing all of them, he wouldn't be able to stand it. And the chance of any of them being family or friends, it would destroy him, emotionally. His mind would be beyond repair, and then, the chance of taking his own life...

I couldn't think about that. Not at the given time. Our lives were at risk, and I had to focus on that situation. We were going slow enough, with our backs bearing the weight of scavenged supplies such as food and ammunition from recent street fighting. We hadn't run into any trouble, and wanted to keep it that way. We had seen the streets, the ruined buildings with rubble covering the roads. Whoever was in charge of this garrison, they were ruthless.

We soon reached our destination. A manhole that had been hidden from the streets by a toppled vehicle. At least, that's what it appeared to be. I was first up, pushing the cover aside. On my right, there was the overturned car. It had been pushed by the Resistance to hide the manhole, so as long as we stayed crouched, we would be fine. We were also in Resistance territory, which was filled with traps. That made it harder for the KPA to get through, although they were small traps, like grenades with tripwires, and barricades. But these were only small traps that would slow down the oncoming attacks.

The other two came up into the light of day, revealing their faces. First was a middle-aged man with a light skin tone. He had a red hooded jumper and brown shorts. His legs below the knees were drenched, hair on his leg dripping with sewer water. The next one was a younger man, with slightly darker skin, like he had been in the sun too long. He had a dark green hooded jumper, and his trousers were the same color. He was the one I had to signal to be quiet. Both of these men were not part of my team, and were newer members to the small Resistance.

"It's clear" the younger one stated, scoping out the area around the side of the vehicle on it's side. I nodded, and while staying low, moved into the building behind the vehicle. Inside, it was an empty bar. The counter had empty shot glasses, some tables were overturned as well as chairs, and one curtain for one of the windows had half of it hanging down from the top of the window. After me was the older man, then the younger one, watching backwards. Although he did stumble, his gun dropping from his hand. If the older man hadn't been closer, and didn't have fat reflexes, it may have fired and killed someone, let alone revealed their position.

"Be careful" I hissed quietly through clenched teeth, trying to sound calm. He gave a look of apology, his eyes moved to the floor. "You have to be more careful with your weapon. Understand?'' He nodded, and I gave a quick satisfied nod back.

We crept to the bar, and then I rapped my knuckles on it in a rhythm. The dusty air filled with silence, then the rhythm was repeated from behind the counter. There was the sound of wood creaking, and a trapdoor opened in the floor. This time, I held back, covering the others as they descended down into the tunnels below. There was a metal groan from the ladder down the hole. At any given moment, it could give way.

On the street outside, there was nothing that could threaten us. At least, not that my eyes could see, or my ears could hear. Once the sounds of the ladder stopped, I knew they were down. So I slid myself across the bar, and my feet landed next to the gaping hole. With my left foot, I lowered my self down into the hole, placing my boot against the first rung. I continued down with my right foot, then once low enough, placed my spare hand on the rung. As soon as my hands were at the third rung, I grabbed onto the rope attached to the door and pulled on it slowly, closing it, then locked it. I then continued down until my boots touched the dirt below. The room below had a few hanging lights, swinging around when another shake came through from an explosion somewhere. There were several wine racks lined against the side walls, some of them moved there to clear some room for the tables and other much needed equipment, which I thought some of it was unnecessary compared to other things they could have gathered. Such as the board games someone brought in. They could have left them. And the amount of clothes they brought. I remembered the time I left my own home, and all I took was a weapon and the clothes on my back.

I moved to one of the tables where my team waited. Ron was the first to notice my presence, and nudged Artie with his shoulder.

"You bring what we need?" I paused, then hauled the pack onto the table, in the middle of the map on top. Ron was the first to grab the top of the bag and opened it, revealing the contents. Inside were some ammo mags, a couple of handguns and some parts for a little project of theirs, such as armor plating. "You sure this'll work?" he asked. I nodded confidently. It was a well thought at plan. Except for one thing. We would need help, from the outside. And as of yet, we had no way to contact the outside world. But as it turned out, the small Resistance was more organised than we first believed.

"We have some news you guys might want to hear" said a voice from behind me. I turned to find a guy in his late teens, around the same age as Jason. Possibly a little older. "One of the scouts we sent out found what has been preventing any calls beyond the wall. A set of trucks with jamming stations in their trailers. Here, here and here" he continued, pointing them out on the map. While he did, he peered into the bag. "What's all this for?"

Artie grabbed the top zipper tight to close the bag then the handles, pulling it towards him and glared at the teen, then made a shooing motion. "None of your business, kid. Now move along before I make you." The teen scowled and began to walk away, still scowling at Artie. Once he was gone, I too glared at Artie, and he shrugged at me. " _What?"_ I rolled my eyes, and looked at the points the boy had pointed to. Still thinking that Artie didn't have to act so rough. They were all at three different intersections, and would most likely have had reasonable defenses.

"We need to attack them soon. Only then, can we call out for help. But to do that, we need a diversion." I looked about, then pointed to a single broad looking man in the group. "You, think you can lead the diversion team?" He looked stunned for a moment, then nervously nodded.

"I..I can try...Sir."

"Don't try, just draw them away. Hit something small if you have to, but if it's small, make it multiple targets. Can this be done?" I asked, this time to everyone. The others nodded. "So we are in agreement?" They nodded again. "Good. Be back here in an hour, with light gear and explosives. Now, get moving." They left in a hurry, but in a sensible manner, while I took up a chair. In my opinion, I was ready. _I only hope they're listening. Or there may be no hope for any of us._ I stopped the one in the lead of the diversion team.

"By the way, don't call me sir."

* * *

 **Chester, 13:00, 19th March 2037, Wyatt's POV**

* * *

The others gathered around the table, Ron and one of the Resistance 'leaders' beside me. Personally, they were a little disorganized. I couldn't stress that enough. But weren't we once like that? Disorganized, with no leader. Even still, we have no leader. At least, I didn't think of us having one, even though I knew everyone thought of me as their leader.

"Are you _sure_ this plan will work? Our supplies are limited as it is" the 'leader' stated. I gave him an intense stare, crossing my arms.

"I'm sure of it. We don't do this, then we will surely run out of supplies. You can't hide in the shadows forever, because the shadows won't stay forever. They will find you eventually." The leader looked back to the map, choosing to ignore me. I did the same with him, and glanced across the table to Ron, who had a skeptical look towards the very old man.

I moved my index finger over to one of the points on the laid-out map, a circled area. "According to our sources, one of the jammers is here. I'll take a team there. Ron, you take a team to this one, and Artie will take the last." They both nodded in confirmation. "Good. Lead teams of two. Choose wisely, because they may be the last you serve with...Good luck, all of you." They nodded once more and left, taking their gear with them. I started with them, until the old man halted me in my steps.

"I don't want you doing this. It could reveal our position." My only response was a smug look, with a witty remark.

"If they wanted to hit you, you would already be gone. They're just biding their time, waiting for you to become more of an apparent threat. What you need to do is become a threat before they realize it, strike where they won't expect. Now, excuse me while I do this for you." I pushed past him, my expression returning to serious. Sure, the KPA _might_ have been expecting them to hit the trucks. All we really needed was a diversion.

I went up the ladder to find two others waiting for me. It seemed the others had already left. I could only hope they had more luck then the dead. Then again, some would consider the dead to be the lucky ones. And sometimes, I did too.

We moved out of the building, and by then we could hear distant explosions. Our diversion team had been set to work, doing what they could.

"Let's move."

* * *

Ron moved through the alley ways, his two members behind him. He had a Diablo SMG with a red dot sight. In his pack on my pack, he had two C4 charges they had brought with them from base. He knelt down, and pulled out the small map he brought with him. Laying it out before them, he looked down at it and pointed to a circled position, then looked ahead to a nearby street sign.

"It's just down the street. Walker, go into the building on the left and provide over watch. We'll stay down here." The man on his left nodded and fell back until he found a door next to a dumpster, and opened in quietly before entering it. The other two moved forward, stopping just before the exit of the alley. Ron peeked out around the corner, finding their target down the street. It was a black truck, with a trailer attached to the back. The back of it is opened up, revealing a satellite in the top. Ron signaled for his last follower to move forward, with him taking the lead. They moved from cover to cover, being careful to avoid the sight of the enemy ahead. He counted four plus foot soldiers, including an auto-turret. There could be an even higher amount on the outside, and hopefully the other rebel had found a way around to that side. They stayed knelt down by a half destroyed car, with all but one door on the ground.

He held out his hand, holding up three fingers before him and his partner. On three, his partner popped up from cover, firing a spray of bullets upon the squad of troops. Ron remained crouched, and began moving from cover to cover, staying low. He thought himself close enough when all that was left to cover was a large stretch of road. And with more fire coming from the second rebel in the building, it should have been easy. And it was.

He rolled forward, then went into a full sprint. Several bullets hit the asphalt behind him. He felt the heat of passing bullets, skimming him by inches. And when he arrived at the target, he got to work. The man pulled his pack from his back, and retrieved one of the charges, placing it against the truck. And that was all he had to do. He ran as fast as he could, and dove through a window, his other partner following. While diving, he had the detonator in hand, and sent the truck into a fiery blaze.

"Let's hope the others are doing well!" he shouted aloud to his partner, then began blind firing from cover.

* * *

Artie dove out of the way as another barrage of fire came from the auto-turret. If he had been facing the other way, he would have seen one of his allies being shredded apart by the auto cannon's rapid fire and heavy caliber rounds. But he saw the result when he turned back, and felt sick in the stomach. Looking away, he peeked over the cement block he was behind to see a computer on their side. The ally who had been killed had the explosives. Although Artie had another plan.

"Cover me!" he shouted to his other partner, who was firing from a shop window. There was a barrage from their weapon, and he charged forward. He had lost his own weapon earlier, and was defenseless, save for his knife. When he reached the console, he began rapidly typing. If he couldn't destroy it, then he would use it to their advantage. Looking to the screen, he had a hopeful smile. "Please be listening" he prayed, and he pressed the Enter button, then fell from a sudden shot to his leg.

* * *

 **That's another chap. And next up, a whole bunch of crossfires, explosions, bullets flying, blood spraying, explosions...did I say that? Well, there's going to be explosions. A lot of them. So see you all then, in the next chap.**


	14. Arc I: Liberation Of Chester Part II

_**You drive someone from their home. They will only come right back. In force.**_

 **Chester, 13:09, 19th March 2037, Wyatt's POV**

* * *

This was _exactly_ how I planned my day to go. With me and several others, stuck in a restaurant. Bullets flying in all directions. Piercing metal of what was left of cars just outside, shredding tables and chairs inside. Smoke came to my nose, stinging it with it's smell. Splinters float in the air mere seconds before dropping to the ground like wooden hail. Of all the places we could have gone, this was not the best. On either side were the team members I took with me. One had a bullet clip his arm, the other got splinters in one eye after a table blew up in their face from a hail of bullets. If he hadn't been wearing goggles, it would have been worse. Much worse. The brown jacket of the one with the clipped arm was beginning to become coated in red. As it turned out, the chip was more than a clip after all.

Another explosion sounded outside, rubble raining in through the broken window. The building rumbled from the blast, the roof threatening to cave in. I lift my armed hand over the cover, blind-firing my USP handgun over cover. No cries of pain were heard, but that could have also been good. Because that could have been a sign of hitting a target's head, ending their life in one lucky shot.

"Keep your heads down!" the resistance fighter on my right shouted, the one with an injured arm. I could not resist giving him that 'no shit' look at him, mixed with a frown. But it did not last long, as my mind drifted. To think of the others. Were they surviving this large fight? Holding their own? Or were they writhing on the ground, in pools of their own blood? All I could do was hope against that and worry about the now. Yet I was too much of a worrier, and that would be a very tough thing to do. Unless someone decided to shove me, which is exactly what someone did. Just a light shove to the shoulder.

I found myself looking into a face full of urgency, and pain. "Hey, Wyatt! Need you in the fight, now!" I nodded, quickly glancing back to the man with blood seeping from around his eyes. We had to get him out of here. He had no way to see, and no way to fight.

"Come on. Help me with him!" The other nodded, and began a barrage of suppressing fire by blind-fire.

I pulled the other man up to his feet, getting one of his arms around my neck. Another explosion is heard from behind. My guess is one of ours this time, as no enemy fire followed. By the time we reached the bar at the back, the amount of fire heard increased, and I knew then that my other partner needed help. I lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the back of the bar. I ducked down, waiting for a break in the enemy fire. And when that moment came, my feet carried my across the boarded floor as if it were on fire. With one quick slide, I slammed into the wall under the window, holding my pistol in my right hand and my left shoulder against the wall.

With my other hand, I grabbed the other man's shoulder. "We need to go. Now" I insisted, quietly with a calm tone. He looked me in the eyes. By the look of it, he wanted to stay and fight. Not understanding what I wanted was only to fall back, not retreat back to our headquarters. "Tom. Now." Those two words were enough, with a small tug to his brown leather jacket. We both started to run back, ducking down. But if we had continued on, if I had not heard that whistle through the air, we would have all died. I pulled on his jacket, stopping him in his tracks just as an RPG went flying by. hitting the bar and shattering it to splinters. Leaving nothing, even behind.

We both lay in shock, the deafening blast ringing in our ears. The blast had saved us in some way, knocking us to the ground and out of the way from the continuing barrage of bullets. Using my feet, I started pushing away, my boots scraping against the floor. Pulling him with me. We stopped against a flipped table, leaning against it.

"We're fucked, man! He's fucking dead!" I grabbed him by the jacket, pulling his face to mine.

"Pull it together, and fight." My voice was quiet, but cold and dark almost like a hiss. I handed him his Diablo SMG that he had dropped on the ground. "So, you can either cower here, or use that weapon of yours. And shoot them." He nodded slowly. Then, looked around the corner of the table and fired, peeking around it.

When he pulled back, he spoke while reloading. His voice shaking with fear. "Where's our help when we need it?" I took my turn in firing. I already knew the answer. We would be getting no help. We had done our part to help the resistance group here. Now, all we could do was hold our own. At least, that's what we believed. A sudden roar of heavy gunfire sounded from outside, followed by screams of agony. Wheels squealed against the road. Not soon after, the sounds stopped. Followed by a door opening, and boots hitting the ground. Peeking around, I couldn't resist the smile that crossed my face.

"Hey, Tom. You wanted help. Well, you got it." He stood up. His armed hand fell to his side, along with the SMG.

"It's about time." A Chester rebel came running over, holding an M4 rifle.

"Are you all here?" I shook my head, pointing a thumb back to the remnants of the bar. That was all he needed to know. "I guess you've had enough time fighting alone out here. So let's get you out of here." We followed the rebel to the grey utility truck, with another rebel holding an LMG me and my team had brought with us when coming here, standing on the back. As soon as when we were in, the truck started off.

"How does the fight go?" I questioned.

"It goes as well as one could. With the resources you gave us, and the transmitters down, we have contacted everyone in Chester. We now have everyone's support. But there were a few against us, who we have captured, and are now keeping under heavy surveillance." The truck rounded a corner, into a clear street. "Most of the fighting is downtown, a bit in our area. But the main problem, is that damn airship. We have no way of taking it out."

I smirked. "We do. Have you hit the armory?" His look obviously was meant to say something like 'Are you crazy?' or something like that.

"You're crazy, right? That's where most of them norks are! They'll kill us if we approach!" I shook my head.

"Not if we hit them quickly. We only want one thing. A-" I couldn't finish, as an explosion rocked the side of the vehicle. A wall of a building next to us exploded, showering them with bricks. Following the smoke trail, I saw where it came from. The airship itself. "It's targeting us! Get off the streets!" The driver turned into an alley way, another explosion hitting just behind us. The poor guy in the back must have had a headache by now. "Call in a team to hit the armory. We'll meet up with them." The rebel tuned into the radio, grabbing a walkie-talkie attached to it. He began giving orders, in a way I did not like. No codenames what so ever. It's like he wanted to give away our entire plan. Luckily he got it out, because we exited the alley, only to ram right into a lone stalker, the crash flipping our vehicle forward. But I knew better. Stalkers never traveled alone. And I was right when I spotted another few to my right. And my left.

I kicked against the door repeatedly, over and over until the door swung open. Quickly, I crawled out, holding my pistol in one hand. The sudden crash left me shaking a bit. I lifted my USP.45 to aim at one of them. But my hand was waving around too much, I couldn't get a clear shot. One Stalker leaped onto the the underside of the truck, ripping and tearing at the metal while making robotic/animal like screeches. The single orb in the head lit up the metal.

My hand moved to that one, aiming for the single red eye. Yet still, my hand waved around too much. In no possible way, could I hit it. I fired, hitting it's shoulder. It flinched, then stared at me. The red light glowed against my face. "Come on, then." One clawed metal paw moved onto the road next to me, then another. The head hovered above mine. Then, the blue sparks from the contact tazers appeared.

Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded. And a bullet ran through the back of the neck. The robot collapsed. Another gunshot. Another down. This went on until there were three of eight down until I rested my head against he road, looking backwards. To see Jason with a Diablo SMG and Lydia with an M40 sniper rifle.

I reached out to them. Lydia shouldered her rifle, leaving Jason to keep on firing. He had grown so responsible since I first met him. Yet still, I doubted he would kill another human. Robots, he was fine with hitting down. Lydia grabbed my hand, hauled me to my feet. I staggered to a wall, regaining my wits and my nerves. By the time Lydia had gotten the others out, and the stalkers were down, I was myself again. And there was Jason, there to check on me. He looked scared, dirt covering half his face. I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder from the young man, and I was amazed how brave he could be, coming out here despite the fear in his eyes.

"Hey. You alright, Wyatt?" I nodded, resting my back up against the wall of a building. "Can you stand properly? Are you hurt? Does your head-"

"I'm fine, Jason...I'm fine." That was enough for him to leave me be. But he didn't walk away. He stayed with me. The driver of the truck came to me. I knew what was going to be said, and stopped him before he could speak. "We will get moving right now." That earned me a confused look from Jason. "The airship. We are going to try and take it out, but we need to hit the armory first."

Lydia was obviously skeptical on the idea. "And how far would that be?" I pointed up the street.

"Only two blocks away. There are others to meet us there." I started to walk, stumbling at first. But I got my balance eventually. "We will go on. You two" I added, pointing at the Chester rebels. "Get back to your base. We'll be fine. And take my partner with you" They did not even bother to hesitate, and scampered off with their weapons, carrying an unconscious Tom with them. Luckily, there was another M4 in the truck. I took it, collecting two extra magazines. Their resources really were very scarce. "Let's get moving."

I took the lead, moving down the street. Lydia and Jason followed behind. "Where's Milo?" I asked, aiming down my sights while scanning the street ahead.

"We found the head quarters. He's there, waiting for all this to blow over...We kind of forced him to go there." I gave a light chuckle. Just like the old, casual Milo. Never wanted to be left out of a fight.

"Just what I thought." Silence then fell upon us after. I had questions for them, and I was sure it was the other way around. We continued on trudging forward. And it wasn't too long before we arrived. We knew we had when we heard the gunfire. Instead of going straight in, I directed us into a side alley. We knelt down at a corner. And just around, is the fight going on.

"Alright, here's the plan. Jason, join the rebels. Now, you don't have to kill any soldiers. Just cover them from flanking Stalkers." He nodded, yet was a little slow with leaving. Obviously hesitant about leaving us. Once gone, I looked at Lydia. "Lydia, you come with me. Close quarters, so use your pistol." She shouldered her rifle, unholstered her pistol and stood up, taking the lead this time.

The gunfire grew as we drew near. I could only hope Jason would be okay.

* * *

 **Chester, 13:26, 19th March 2037, Jason's POV**

* * *

It was absolute hell. I was there, shooting horribly while being fearful of imminent death. Fighting for my life.

The battle really was not going well. Surely was not in our favor. Already, one rebel was dead, and two others injured. A smoldering wreck was what remained of a vehicle they luckily got out of. The airship was far from us, heading in the direction of the rebel base. Whatever Wyatt had in store for them, I wished he would hurry. Or otherwise, we were about to lose the battle for Chester.

I had one other rebel with the same task as me. Holding Stalkers off. Two Stalkers appeared down road, charging at full speed. A screeching howl from one announced their arrival to the battlefield. The rebel with me was the first to fire. Already, I knew he was the nervous type, like me. He fired half a magazine, each shot missing or pinging off the armor on the Stalker's front. I, on the other hand, got it right on target by some amazing shot. The first flipped over. But the anxiety hidden within resurfaced when three more arrived. I fired again, missing. The rifle bucked up in my unsteady, clammy and sweaty hands. Trying to steady my next shot, an explosion from an RPG hit nearby, sending vibrations through me and my ears ringing. War really was harsh, and I started to regret coming out into it.

The rebel by me emptied the next half of his mag, hitting one Stalker in a couple of joints at random. But that did not slow the robot's approach. They kept on leaping forth, coming closer and closer at a slow and steady pace and they got nearer. You could swear they were tigers stalking prey, and we were the prey to those electric teeth. They just kept on getting closer. Every time one went down, another two would leap down from the rooftops to take it's place.

We had to fall back, or risk getting trampled as they began to stampede our way. I started to fall back, firing in short bursts with the weapon bucking up. I had no control of where the rounds hit. Fearfully watching them advance. The rebel with me was way ahead of me, running for cover further back. In fact, he was already there before I started moving back. I hurried along as well, dropping my gun to my side.

From the cover another weapon joined ours. A buff looking man appeared next to me, with a helmet on his head. A repainted KPA police helmet. "Push them back!" the man shouted. And instantly, I recognized the voice.

"Marcus?! You're alive?."

"Yeah, nice to see you too. Still a shrimp, I see." I smirked, hope reentering my veins. The hope of victory. Just the same Marcus as before I left. Well, not physically. I could see he had grown more muscular. "So. Joined the Resistance, I see? Finally decided to man up?" I shrugged. The last of the Stalkers fell before we went on.

"I'm not the only one, from what I see." He nodded, then went around to the main fight on the armory. I wanted to follow, but then more Stalkers came. And I didn't want to fight other people. I never had the guts to do that, and only thought non-living opponents. Things that didn't scream in pain, or spray blood all over you.

Another firefight ensued. More metal vessels laid across the road. But there were just not enough of the rebels to combat them. We had been reduced from eleven to six in a manner of minutes. Three of which were dead. The losses were becoming too great, and before I knew it, Marcus saw the same. He began to fall back, ordering the others with him. And I did the only thing I could do. I followed them from behind, my back to the group as I tried to make my last fight the manliest I had ever done. But before we knew it, we became the airship's new targets. A missile hit right in front of the group, killing one instantly and injuring another. Everyone else was knocked down. My weapon was flung from my hands. Me, Marcus and one other were all that remained. The others laid still in pools of blood and asphalt.

"Cover! Get to cover!" We all ran into doorways and alleys. But it wasn't enough. The airship continued to hammer the road. Killing the injured that writhed on the ground. It looked like the end. Then I saw it. A missile. Like an RPG, but this one curved through the air, like it had a mind of it's own. Right into one of the rear engines. Yet the airship continued to remain in the sky.

Till another followed. And another. Soon, there was a small storm of nine missiles, all flying right at the airship. The sky lit up, and soon the airship fell slowly from the sky, fire burning through its outer hull and engulfing the material that made of the skin of the airship.

Cheers ran through our little group, and soon after, another utility truck arrived, with several more rebels to clean up the mess. But I sat there, watching the monster in the skies descent in a blaze of fire. Knowing how close I had been to death.

* * *

 **An Hour Later...**

* * *

Finally, it was done. After much bloodshed, we had won. There were still some remaining, but when Jill and Hank showed up, with everyone else. What remained of the KPA occupants fled, either from the town or deeper into it. Hoping to reclaim what they had lost. The City Hall was taken soon after the destruction of the airship.

People took to the streets, and the roofs, cheering for their well-earned freedom. As did I, along with my family, who had survived. My father had helped in the fight with fixing the rebel vehicles, while my mother helped prepare food and heal the wounded.

In our triumph, we gained a large arsenal. A couple of APC's, some light armor, and a tank, as well as a couple of choppers. And whatever we could salvage from the airship. But it was far from over. They would be back for Chester. In force, and with an army, no doubt. All we could do was wait until that came. And hope that this victory would not be short-lived.

* * *

 **So, that's another chapter done. And for those wondering, Norks is a term used by the American Resistance when referring to the KPA. So hope to see you all again soon!**


	15. Arc II: Flood Waters

**My name is Bear. Part of a special ops team known as Alpha Pack, formed after the beginning of the occupation of the United States. Made up of SEAL members who had lost their previous teams. All of us were given code names, linked with an animal. The year is 2037. The GKR, known by some as KPA, have the upper hand, and it is out duty to change that to the best of our ability. We have been fighting for a while. Seen action on the line. The only difference I see is the scale being larger.**

* * *

 **Minneapolis, 22:17, 18th March 2037,** **Bear's POV**

* * *

Could this storm above get any worse? I asked that question back at base. That's probably why they call me the jinx of the team sometimes, since it's a thing I end up doing. _A lot_. Before we left, the rain was soft. There was no thunder, no lightning. The wind was soft against me. Didn't blow anything over. Except for piles of dust and ashes from fires recently extinguished. Sure, the leaves were going a little crazy on the trees, but that was nothing like when we left.

The storm swept over, bringing with it winds that belonged on highways, enough lightning to put the hairs on the back of my neck on end, and rain that caused a the water to reach knee deep on even ground. The old water was enough to make the skin on my legs grow numb, the insides slowly doing the same. It's a funny thing to happen, since I had been trained to resist the cold. So why couldn't I resist this? Guess my body just wanted to make me hate it. Or the weather. Whichever one it was, I didn't care. I was more worried about the spotlights scanning the area near me and the two others. Beams of light that are the banes of the stealthy type of soldier.

We ducked behind a wrecked Sedan, missing all it's doors. Possibly scrapped by some survivors looking for somethings to piece together for shelter. Some of the color had been scratched off by wear. But most of it was intact, besides the doors. And the headlights. It wasn't an odd thing to come across, since many resources were quite scarce. But obviously, this happened around maybe a year after the occupation began. That was my guess.

The search light passed over. Only a bit of us was illuminated, although not enough to spot us. These spotlights aren't like the average ones, with only a single light-bulb. No, these were a special type. They sense movement, sense when something organic stands in it's path. They were used with automatic turrets. The type of turret with enough firepower to shred a man in heavy armor to nothing more that a few bits of stringy flesh. Or just a body full of holes. No doubt there were some nearby. Not something I wanted to be caught by. And not only were they our only danger, but the constant patrols of hovering drones and helicopters, searching for something to put some led into. Something to add some action into their day. Too bad that their wish would be granted, giving them a little too much to handle.

One of my other team members made hand signals for _'move forward'_. More specifically, our team leader. With my silenced M4 with ACOG, I scan the windows for any passing snipers or other troopers moving by. My squad-mates are armed with a holographic-sight Super V SMG silenced, and the other an M16 with a ACOG and a silencer. All of us had combat vests with all sorts of gear, such has flash-bangs and frags. With masks over our heads. And we had the skill set necessary to fight with those weapons and gear. When the sound of a chopper nearby is heard, which directs my sight to the sky. Luckily, there is none visible. Doesn't mean it would be soon, though.

Once the others two were in the clear, I followed, covered by them. Wading through the waist-high water. Not my idea of fun. It was going to be a while before we reached a suitable entrance into the three-story building that had little to no guards on the prowl. We made it to a semi-truck, two of us behind the trailer and the last next to the truck itself. And so far, nothing signaled to us that the enemy knew of their presence.

The lightning continued to flash here and there, giving off some silhouettes of a few soldiers walking along the roof with their weapons in hand. Snipers, assault rifles, RPG's and some other large weapons. None of them were even looking down! _Not a single one!_ Just strolling like they were in some side-scroller. How I longed to play one of those. Any video game would be fine with me, but they were scarce these days. But seriously, who trained these guys? The ducks from those carnival games? They were just waiting to be shot. But I wasn't a trigger happy guy, and neither were my team mates, or from what I could tell they weren't. Although, they must have found it odd too. Then again, I didn't know them well enough, since I'd only been with them since last week. This was our first op together. And I guess those soldiers up there were better than having Stalkers. For us, that is.

Once given the clear, we did the same thing, except my M16 buddy stayed back this time and I moved forward with Super V guy. We waited to here gunfire, and heard none of our position. I lifted my hand, and curled my fingers back in forth. That was the _'Come here'_ hand signal. He waded threw as quickly as he could, trying to avoid making too much sound as possible. Of course, I did the stupidest thing I ever could have done. I thought to myself: _"Could be worse."_ Oh, how wrong I was.

A huge gust of wind came by, pushing a couple of dumpsters caught in a wall away. A wave double the height of the water level we were in swept by, carrying the dumpsters with it. I would have alerted the guards if I had yelled to him to take cover, but it would have been too late anyway. One of them hit the truck, while the other slammed right into his side, dragging him with it. The spotlight darted to the truck, as we went as fast as possible to our allies' side.

Once we came to him, we found he was conscious still. No blood was visible, although it was dark. In my quietest voice, I asked, "You okay?" He gave a thumbs up, with a pained grunt. I trusted him, as did the leader of the group. But we couldn't leave him here. The water was rising, and soon he'd be caught under. We had to move the dumpster. I shouldered my weapon, and I gripped one of the side handles.

The leader of the team shouldered his Super V with the leather strap on it and started making hand signals. Unlike my last team, they seemed to not like words very much. But all these signals, I knew. In the end, he lifted three fingers. By each second, he put one down. His other hand rested on a handle on the side of the dumpster. On three, we pulled with all our might. There was a muffled groan from under the water as it began to slide. Only for the damn current to push it back, ramming it into him again. He grunted, holding back a scream of agony. I could see the pain all over his face. The poor guy.

We did the same thing again. Same result. So, as many say, third times the charm. And it truly was. The current slowed, and we managed to pull the massive metal bin off him, releasing him from the wall. He gulped in a massive amount of air, then let it out and a few quiet exhales. Though it didn't stay good for long. We ducked down as a squad of KPA troops ran by the windows inside. We had a guess where they were headed, which meant we had to clear out of the area. Another reason for that was that the water had risen halfway up our chests.

Me and the other two waded through, not bothering with cover as the searchlights were still fixed in that area before. Though when the squad passed by, we dived under, waiting for them to go on. Once they were gone, we stood up and continued on. We hadn't been under for too long, so our lungs didn't hurt from holding out breath. Soon, we found out why it hadn't taken too long for the troops to come by. As it turned out, there was an entrance closer than we thought. One that wasn't on the map. Literally a _hole_ in the wall. Someone had just blown a hole in the wall.

Me and M16 were first in, swiping our weapons back and forth to cover the area. Just an empty classroom was all it was. Some overturned desks and chairs, a black board with words scratched on with chalk too hard. A door with a smashed window. And a flickering light. Talk about ominous. The only other light we had was coming from the hallway and the fires outside. However, the sounds outside dimmed down. The thunder, distant gunfire. All of it. Finally, some quiet.

Which disappeared when we heard chatter close by. We took positions on either side of the door, while the team leader waited behind an overturned desk, weapon leveled out over the top edge. The talking drew closer and closer until their shadows were cast on the walls ahead of them. My body tensed up, hands readjusting themselves on my rifle. _Then_...they passed by. Not even looking inside. _How stupid were these guys?!_

I glanced at the others. They looked back with no emotion. I guessed we all had the same idea. The guards here were utterly stupid. I shrugged it off. Once again, luck had returned to our side. But we had to continue on. Super V stuck his head out, along with his weapon. Sweeping it from side to side. Then, he held up an open hand, then flicked it forward. He left, we followed.

In some areas of the ceiling it was like a mini waterfall. Sparkling water turned a little more murky from all the dirt on upper floors. The ground floor flooded slightly, enough to cover one's toes. I walked through one of the mini falls. It may have been dirty, but it felt nice, for some reason. Even though I had just been standing in the rain. And also I bet it would have looked cool for anyone on the other side. Just seeing someone go slowly through a sheet of water, like someone walking through steam.

The others moved forward. So much for my dramatic entrance past the water. I move with them, gazing into every room on the way. Amazingly, all were empty. Until one where the others stopped by. A closed door, light peeking out from underneath. Super V took the opposite side to me and the M16 guy. I grabbed a flashbang in one hand, and waited for Super V's countdown on his hand to hit one. On the one, he opened the door a little, and I tossed in the grenade. He quickly closed it in time to muffle the shouts and screams inside, before a loud bang.

Super V kicked the door in, and I followed the other guy in. Already, I spotted my targets. Two out of the five inside. All of them were rubbing at their eyes, or clasping hands against their ears. I lifted my rifle to my shoulder. Aimed at my closest target. As did the other two. And fired, two bullets for each. Blood sprayed from their heads and chests. They fell to the floor and against the tables.

Super V made the signal to _'clear room'_. I swept my rifle across the right side, finding no more left. I gave the _'clear'_ hand signal. Turning back, the same came from M16 guy. I lowered my weapon, going over to the table and looking over it. Unluckily for us, what we were looking for wasn't here. Instead, there was a deck of cards in the middle, some drinks around and a couple of metal plates with food on them. In other words, we had just interrupted a group of soldiers entertaining themselves. Ah well. Not our fault. Just wrong place, wrong time.

I caught a glimpse of something just outside the window, and I could tell so did the others. We all moved toward the window at the back. Just by looking outside, I knew we had gotten inside in time. A large convoy of tanks, trucks, Stalkers, troops and other armor went by. We knew where they were headed. To the front lines.

The team leader led us out of them room, clearing the hallway. It was empty. It was a good thing we fired first, or otherwise they would have brought everyone in the building onto us. We were lucky enough with the dumpster incident outside.

Ahead was a set of stairs. Seeing the stairs in a school brought back memories of my school years. I was such the daredevil, skating down the rails. It saddened me that no children of this generation would be able to experience what I had. None of them would be able to experience the spacious classrooms, playing on the playground at lunch time with not a care in the world. They will always have to look at the sky, wondering when the next bombs will drop. Gazing across the roads, waiting for their mothers and fathers to return from the line. _This was not the life for a child._

I shook my head to clear it. Had to focus on the present, at _my_ location. Not elsewhere. And just in time to see the team leader grapple with a lone guard coming around the top of the stairs. He had grabbed his arm, and I had come back just in time to hear the _snap_ of the arm as his knee bent it the wrong way by the elbow joint. His other hand was other the guards mouth, his sub-machine gun hanging from it's strap. The soldier's muffled scream barely reached my ears. The gun in the hand of his broken arm fell to the ground. _Hard._ Then, my ally drew a combat knife and stabbed it into his back, slowly lowering the soldier against the wall. Now it looked like he was on break. Besides the blood pooling from his wound. Super V took back his knife before wiping it on his sleeve, then putting it back in it's sheath. I was a little surprised at how he showed no emotion as he just killed a man.

Super V stood up and took a step back from the corpse, as if admiring his handiwork. Then gripped his weapon and started to walk off. I looked to M16 guy, wondering if he was having the same feeling I was. Instead he had the same as our leader. Nothing. So I just decided to move along. Ignore the body. Just like I had done many times before.

Once more, we found more empty rooms. The entire hall we followed was empty. So we went down another hallway. And that's where we found it. A room full of talking. We held our position a doorway over. Using what I knew about Korean, I made out some words and knew this was the right room. I gave a nod to the leader. He muttered something through the radio on his shoulder, then gave the _'move forward'_ command. This was it. Our objective was inside. We took positions on one side of the open doorway. Super V ducked down, peeking around the corner. I assumed no one was looking in his direction when he made it to the other side with some quick steps.

Once more, he made the countdown. _Three...Two...One._

I tossed in a flashbang. Some shouts were heard, and the sound of a large object smashing against something, then the loud bang and bright flash. We breached, only to be caught in a burst of fire. I rolled to one side, bullets narrowly missing me. I could imagine the sting if one did hit. Not very fun to have that happen.

"Weapons free!" shouted the team leader. So now he finally talks, only when things got loud. He was running to cover while firing his weapon. Streaming bullets along with him. M16 took pot shots at whoever dared to poke their head above the long flipped table. I could now see why some were unaffected by the grenade. They had helmets that protected them from such affects. Smart bastards. Others were laying on the ground out harm's way.

After I was sure I was safe in cover, I analyzed the situation. Nine targets. One of them got hit in the chest in the fight's beginning. He had fallen back. I made a shot to add to the body count. And succeeded, the bullet smashing right through the glass visor of one of their helmets. But then I was fired at by a spray from two rifles. This fight was going nowhere. They had managed to pin us down...But not for long.

One of the glass windows shattered as a bullet shot through. Before going on to pierce a KPA trooper's chest with a spray of red mist. That would be thanks to out sniper. Another came through, ending another man's life. Taking my chance I fired my M4 at the table. Riddling it with bullet holes. Shells hit the floor with _clinks_. And hitting another target in the process. Super V and M16 did the same. Soon the table was nothing but a holey piece of red wood. And the wood wasn't made of red wood.

We stood up from our cover, just waiting for someone to stand up. No one did. "Clear!" I shouted. No use being quiet now.

"Bear, cover exit. Fox, help me here." Fox let his M16 dangle from the strap then got on his hands and knees, sifting through the sheets all over the ground. The team leader did the same. I held my M4 to shoulder height, aiming through the holographic sight. From all around I could hear the echoing shouts and footfalls. We had to get out of here, or be swarmed.

"Better hurry guys, cause we are about to get attacked by a lot of guys." Fox must have heard what I said, because he started to quicken the pace. Good thing he did, since he was the one to find it. A folder, with the KPA's battle plans. Fox pocketed it in his backpack.

"Move out!" Wolf shouted, standing and making a run for it. We followed, going as fast as we could.

From ahead I could hear more footfalls and orders being thrown about. We dove into another room, and just in time as a squad of KPA guards ran by. We waited until we were sure they all passed by. I could swear there were at least fourteen of them going by. Glancing around, I found no more. But we were still on guard as we continued on to the roof. No more were seen along the way, until we reached the rooftop. Four guards. Wolf took out two, Fox one and I one. We had an evac plan, but we planned to use it if things went the way we wanted it to. That would be if it had been silent, which it hadn't. Now we only had one choice as the squad we passed before came up behind us. We ran forward, ignoring the hailfire of bullets. Ignoring everything, only focusing on what was ahead. Then, at the rooftop edge...and we jumped. Into the flowing river of floodwater below.

Somehow, we had managed not to break anything. It was quite deep for us to make it. And the KPA must have known that, as they started firing down at us. We let the current carry us along. To me, this wasn't even one of my worst missions. It was actually one of my best. And in my books, a success.

* * *

 **Here you go. Another chapter. It would have come earlier, but we've been unpacking everything with the move, and going out as a family, it's busy when we move. So to make it up to you, I made this chapter of the next story arc. Didn't expect multiple arcs, did you? Yeah, that's because it was a new idea. Also, expect the older chapters to change. Some big changes, some little. But none will affect this story arc.**

 **Also, for those who read my Star Wars fic, I updated that at the same time. Minor changes here and there, and another chapter. Hope you enjoy, and leave a review, please.**


	16. Arc II: New Setup

**_Over the years, if there's one thing I've learnt, it's that home is never in one place..._**

 **Minneapolis, 00:14, 19th March 2037, Bear's POV**

* * *

At first I felt numb and cold all over. Wet dirt under my hands that I clenched to get the feeling back. That was my first movement. The next was my eyes flickering a bit. The last to wake myself up was turning over on my side coughing up dirty water, emptying my lungs from the not-so-clear- liquid. What a stupid plan we had, doing that. If the water had been anymore shallower our legs would have been snapped in two. Everything that happened was based on luck. _Pure luck_. By now I could tell this team was utter crazy or just used to doing stuff like this. I could feel the water churning up my throat, the fibers in the water itching every part upwards. By the time I felt most of the water was gone, I spit out the last bits in my mouth after pushing myself up with my arms. Steady as they were, I still shook. Then took a deep, deep breath to fill my lungs with air once more. Too close of a call. I shuddered at the thought of almost drowning. Still my lungs felt strained by having been filled.

The weapon I used, the rifle, hung from its strap across my chest, dangling down. My sidearm, however, was nowhere to be seen. My black wool ski mask had been folded just above my eyes and over my forehead. The tactical kevlar vest weighed down my body, so I did what I had to do to even stand and clipped it off, letting the vest fall to the ground.

Once I was able to lift myself up to my knees, I glanced over at the others to spot two other men geared up just like me with their unconscious bodies illuminated by a nearby fire. Near my feet was the river of rushing sewer and rain water. One already sitting up, the other still on the ground. The other sitting up lifted his head in the direction he saw movement and beckoned me over with a head gesture. I steadied myself onto my two feet before stumbling over, using whatever my hands could reach to steady myself.

"That was quite the gamble, huh?" I called over weakly, stumbling forth to fall against the van he was against. The other nodded curtly while resting their head against the side of the on. I guessed the reason he took his head off it in the first place was most likely because of the jolt from my hand hitting the vehicle metal hard. His two brown eyes watched the other two, holding barely any emotion. His light brown face didn't even twitch. His skin tone was certainly lighter than mine, with me being African-American. Seriously, these guys were really hard-boiled. Tough as nails. I noticed his large muscles under the outfit bulging out. My muscles were like hills compared to mountains when compared to his. His head was larger than most, his nose upturned a little. His eyes squinting to see me under those bushy brows. This guy was tense.

The other squad member shifted, rolling their fingers. Coughing followed soon after, rougher than the rest of us. They leaned up and pulled off the mask, still coughing. This dude was old. And when I say old, I mean he looked more like a Vietnam Veteran than a soldier of this era. I was surprised this guy still had muscle. He had a medium build, a stout figure. Easily shorter than myself, with me being at 6"4. His chest heaving slowed soon to a steady breathing.

"Lion. You get that beacon up?" the old man asked hoarsely without giving even a single gaze. The other man nodded. "Good. You are on first watch." The other man, Lion stood himself up with his M16 rifle.

"Wow, you guys sure are hardcore. I mean, I have never seen anyone so seriousness." No response. Of course, no response. These guys weren't as humorous as my last team. "Seriously? Nothing? Damn, you guys are the toughest I've seen." That got the old guy's attention. He gave a single side-look, his white-iris eye piercing right through me. This guy really was the creepiest soldier I'd seen, and I had seen some crazy dudes around.

"Quiet." I sighed, turning my eyes down to my loaded weapon. I really did miss my guys. Started with five. And all it took was one fateful mission to leave only me. The captain's orders still ran through my head, urging me to get out of there.

I sat there, drifting around in my own thoughts, weighing the rifle around. The old guy was inspecting some of the files we had taken, which were dry thanks to that waterproof sleeve with him. That last fight I was in really gave me a spur in my adrenaline, and it still had yet to go all the way down. My wet attire dripped in the burning fire nearby. The fire's warmth enveloped my rear side where the fire was at, a few feet away. My nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell of the dirtied water on still on my outfit. To pass the time I repeatedly checked over my weapon and releasing some water here and there. Looking up to the sky I could see no sign of the firefight continuing, meaning things must have cooled down. The only question that remained was who won the fight and who lost. Just not knowing put me on edge.

Geez, it must have been hours waiting there. At least, felt that long. Lifting my watch up I realised it wasn't that long at all, but in fact only twenty long minutes. "Damn, how long does it take to fly through the air? I mean, seriously? We aren't even-"

"Shut up, will you?!" a voice shouted from nearby. Seeing the old man hadn't moved, I guessed that Lion was the one calling out.

"Why don't you, Mr. Big Bone!" I chuckled at my own jeer then rested my head against the side of the van with a grin plastered on my face. Grumbles came from over the other side of the vehicle. I moved my gaze down an angle, only to catch the old guy staring me down.

"Shut up" he spoke scoldingly while watching the water. Just like he had been doing since he woke up. Gave me chills how calm one could be in such a situation. No one I knew was ever like that. "If you want us to be caught, then be as loud as you can. Otherwise, shut up...Same goes for you, Lion." More grumbling came over. I let out another small chuckle of amusement. Slowly, I closed my eyes, letting the darkness of sleep take me from this forsaken land.

* * *

 **2 Hours Later...**

* * *

Consciousness returned to me upon the sound of something approaching as well as someone nudging my shoulder roughly. I blinked my eyes open, hand reaching for my rifle, only to instead knock it over. My gaze moved up to the face of the nudger to see a US soldier armed with an M4. They shouted something upon temporarily-deaf ears before running off. I followed them with my gaze to find where they headed: two Humvees armed with an old fashioned M2 Browning each. Even from here I could see some rust forming on the vehicles and guns.

Tinted windows blocked my view into the vehicle so the only other person I could see was that US soldier plus two others. One of them on the turret. I pushed up the van, having found myself instead sitting against the van. By the time I was up I began walking over to the Humvee with my weapon across my back. One of the soldiers pulled open a rear side door. I hopped inside, not even looking at the others and started leaning to the side. Completely missing the chick beside me giving me a glare.

"Uh, no thank you." The sudden voice startled me, forcing my glance up at the chick next to me. She had a black kevlar vest with a pair of binoculars on the front and an M21 sniper rifle across her lap. On her head was a military cap with her hair in a short brown ponytail going through the hole at the back. Her body was a skinny body with plenty of muscle under the tactical outfit. Her height must have been medium at best, roughly a bit shorter than me. "Personal bubble. _Ugh,_ guys" she groaned. I shaot her a glance of my own, giving her an innocent look.

"Come on, I ain't that kind of guy. You want space, I'll give you space then." She rolled her eyes with another groan when I moved away to the very end of the seat. Since I had been the last to be extracted, the last of the doors closed and we were off in a rumble. All the occupants shuddered wobbled inside from the vehicle's movements. I looked over to the driver of the Humvee. A soldier like all the others, though with a bit less gear.

"How far out are we?" I asked loudly enough for him to hear past the rumbling of the tires and the engine. They turned their head a little with their eyes still on the road ahead.

"Sixty mikes out. Better rest up." I huffed at that.

"Already did." But, with that approximate length given, I might as well have had another rest. Of course, that meant most likely letting my head hang to the side. And a simple sleep wasn't worth a punch in the face. So instead, I did what I normally did when I was bored. Made conversation. "So, I'd like to thank you for that shot you made, Ms. Hawk." She glanced out of the corner of her eye. "That was you, right?"

"Yes. Who else could make a shot from that distance." The answer came to mind right away. Which was 'plenty of people could'. I opened my mouth to give my answer, yet she must have guessed the answer already. "Actually, don't answer that."

I shrugged, slinking back further down in my chair till my boots touched the seat in front of me. Thinking up the next part of the conversation. What else do chicks like here like to talk about? Well, there were plenty of things. Which none of them I could bring myself to talk to, or could even guess she would like that. Not wanting to make anything awkward with any small talk, I finally decided to keep my mouth shut, giving an exasperated sigh.

"Let me guess. Hard time being the 'new kid on the block', eh?" I rolled my shoulders as if pretending not to know what she meant. But I did. It felt just like my first day of school. All nervous. Same way on the first day of training to be a Marine. And first day of training to be a SEAL. I hoped this would be the last time I was going to experience such feelings. And the look she gave me went right through my guise.

"Fine. So I'm more of a cuddly bear than a tough bear. So what?" I turned my eye to the window, staring out to the destroyed landscape outside.

Entire houses having been crumbled or half crumbled. Furniture splayed around. Fires still burning in the dark of the very early day. Wreckages of different vehicles. Tanks, cars, choppers, trucks. When I joined the Marines way back, I expected to see devastation and corpses. But this, this was a new level I never expected. I could picture the explosions and gunfire that once raged across this battlefield. Although the bodies I could not see from the distance we were at.

By then, we must have been at least fifty mikes out. When I thought about that, I realised that the distance between the place we escaped and HQ would have been at least a forty mike ride. Which gave me an answer to the thought I had before about the fight we had seen from a distance. They had been pushed back after all. I saw more of an explanation further out. A large building that was in the area of the HQ. Smoldering with holes in multiple floors.

"Fuck. What made that place such a dump?"

"The strike forced us back." The driver answered. The US Marine in the passenger seat continued on.

"We lost a third of our fighting force. A large pack of Stalkers stormed HQ through the rear. Including a pair of Uber Stalkers." Just the name sent a shiver.

Uber Stalkers. Bigger, badder and stronger than normal Stalkers. Compared to an Alpha Stalker, it was like a bear to a fox. The fox being the Alpha. They were hulking beasts of metal, carrying to anti-infantry cannons on their shoulders with one anti-tank cannon on the back. Those rounds from the anti-infantry cannons could tear a man to pieces, and the anti-tank rounds could make a new door in a Humvee with one shot. Best way to fight them; from the rear. They were slow with their weapons only being able to turn at a 30 degree angle at the front. Knowing this, and being on a higher vantage point, one could be the destroyer of those things.

"Their main force came in after. Turns out what we thought to be their main force was only a distraction for the rear force. A third of what the full attack group. A hundred men, with four times amount of drones. At least a two dozen tanks with three times as much light armor and APC's. We might have held our own, if it wasn't for that artillery hammering the warehouse and that office building. And the dark gave them plenty of cover out there. Me and my squad here barely made it out of there.. _Lost lots of friends in that fight_." A pang of guilt hit me since I felt I wasn't taking it seriously enough. Things really were worse than I first believed.

I looked back out to the ruins of the battle that raged last night while thinking of the lives lost during that big fight. My muscles tensed up at the thought of all those bodies. All the men and women killed. Their screams, the blood, the raging fires and explosions...My team, their shouts, their blank faces-

I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts. I could never bear the thought of seeing them again, even in my dreams. Yet I believed that I would again. The nightmares. Those _damned nightmares_...Well, I didn't care when I tipped my head forward and went to sleep again.

* * *

 **Wolf's POV**

* * *

For the whole trip. _Silence_. I was so lucky the new guy wasn't in the same transport as me, or I would have gone nuts. He would be out in a matter of seconds, and the team would need another team member to replace him. What I didn't understand is why they got _him_ to replace my friend. My brother in arms. He was nothing like the last Bear. Our Bear was serious, powerful. Not sarcastic and dimwitted like this new guy. Why of all people did he have to be the one to die? Me and him, we were the first to join this team. Heck, the old Bear was probably more stonier than me. Not a full-time joker.

Then Lion had come along soon after the team began. Ah, the good old days. The full-on tough guy of the team. A hardened soldier that could get angry easy. Yet as the name suggests, was prideful. Mess with his pride, you get his full anger. If he wanted to, he could tear the head off a Stalker. With cuts on his hands from the metal, yes.

After, there was the smartest of our group and our vehicle expert. Orca. Real fast talker, too. _Really_ fast. He talks at the same speed as a cheetah runs. Most of the time none of us even understood his science-jargon and all that stuff. He wasn't much of a fighter either, and his looks proved that. He was small, almost the size of a teen. One would think the little guy had lied about his age and were a mere teen. And that techy was always sticking with his toys to do stuff for him. such as fighting, except walk and talk. He did that all on his own. He designed much of our equipment and upgrading our weapons. In doing so he made us his test guinea pigs.

The last one to join the team as a permanent member was Hawk. Only woman on this team and she earned her place well. Being one of the best shots with a scope. She's also quite the sasser, taking anyone's insults and turning those remarks on the sender. She also was a good melee fighter, knowing her way around a knife and hands. Even an Oni would have trouble in a fight with her. Okay, perhaps a minor exaggeration. Though if she had the actual strength to do that, she could. What she lacked in strength she had in speed.

Together, we were the perfect team, capable of any mission...until some sniper snuffed Bear with a well-timed headshot. Not even a single last word muttered in the end. For him to be replaced by some jokester was an insult to his memory. The 'replacement' didn't look like him, didn't talk like him. Didn't even seem to have the same body strength as him. The old Bear really was a 'bear of a man'. This guy's just tall, not too much muscle. Should have called him Giraffe.

A knock brought me from my inner thoughts. I blinked at a spotlight shining at the vehicle as my door opened, illuminating my figure. Going to stretch my legs, there were a few cracks in the old bones. Just to show how close I was to my end in time. Looking to my left I saw the other humvee in front of ours unloading it's passengers, including Hawk and the new guy.

"Finally" I muttered, scanning my eyes over the new headquarters. It was made up of multiple buildings in a small area, barricaded with sandbags, wire and metal barricades surrounding the area. We came in from the south, stopping in front of a mechanic workshop. Next to it to the west was a small bookstore. At the back of both was a small alleyway, and on the other side a large warehouse. On each roof there were mounted guns, both AA and AT. Still a little more preparation was needed, but it would do for a temporary set up.

We were lead through the entrance to where our commanding officer waited, his hands behind his back. He had a military cap and camo overalls. A receding hairline underneath the cap, short sideburns of greying hair and a small stubble on his chin. His skin very flushed like he had spent too long in the sun recently. If the sun were out at that time, he would probably be more red. He stood tall and at attention with a personal guard. As I approached, the commander reached out an open hand.

"Here. Everything we need" I said while standing at attention myself. I handed out my plastic sleeve to him. He opened the sleeve then took out one of the sheets, looking it over skeptically with a brow raised. Then, he nodded. I did the same.

"I expect your team to be ready for debriefing in half an hour." I passed him by, the rest of my team already having passed me by. "In the warehouse! You'll find them there!" the commander's voice shouted back to me. I stopped and gave one more nod before going on.

I followed his instructions and headed straight for that warehouse he spoke of. Most likely point of where the rest of the team headed, being the most likely point for the rest of my team that had stayed behind. Surely Orca and he's 'toys' made it out alive and well. He always enjoyed large open areas with a roof overhead. Several troops saluted me on my way, I gave nothing back while only being focused on my destination.

Going through the mechanic there was a courtyard. With the warehouse holding most of our supplies as well as some vehicles, all the rest were left outside. I spotted a couple of M1 Abrams, some Humvees and Stryker APCs. A few bonfires had been lit around the area to keep everyone near them warm during this cold night. And it was supposed to be almost Spring. Some squads patrolled around while others drank away their miseries.

I passed every one of them by to come to the warehouse, then turned the doorknob of the blue steel door and pushed it open, earning a quiet screech from the rusted door. I walked, turning to close the door. As soon as it clicked shut, I heard another metallic click in a different way to the door click. Followed by another. I whirled around, hand reaching for my sidearm but I was only too late to stop the hulking piece of wiring and metal.

The mechanical beast leaped from a stack of pallets, smacking me down and my handgun from my hand. Red-lit eyes stared down that lit up my face with their close proximity to my face making me blink my eye continuously to keep myself from being blinded in my one good eye. There was a short stretch of silence before finally the metal tiger reared it's head back...and let out a mechanical whirr similar to a purr.

"Stripes! Get off of him, you clumsy piece of scrap!" That robot turned it's head in the direction of Hawk's voice, letting out a soft purr while backing off from me. My frail body felt sore from the contact against the hard metal.

"Pardonme butStripesisnot some'clumsypieceofscrap!" A small yet angry-sounding voice chided at the Hispanic woman. _V_ _ery quickly_.Every time he spoke like that, I got a headache trying to figure out what he said. That's just Orca, the _fast talker_. "Sheisinfact amarvelofmachinery! Sheismuchmore thanscrap! Sheisinfact-"

"Shut it, Orca." My words were however overridden by his continued rambling.

"-Aperfectdesignof animalemotionandbehavior beingcombinedwith thatofamachine!"

"I said _shut up_!" The little guy's mouth clamped shut. His lightly freckled face looked over at me on his short neck. A mix of brown and ginger hair grew from his head. He wore an attire of a checkered red and blue shirt with white lines with a grey jacket over it and the zipper undone. On his short legs he had a pair of denim faded grey jeans and sneakers. An unusual addition to the team, but a worth it one. The Stalker eyed me in an anxious way. Thanks to an added jaw and some modifications to the face, they could actually show some emotion. Add to that the modified behavior chips and the sweeping tail and it's like an actual big cat you'd see on a safari. Just with metal instead of skin and muscle and bones. Kind of creepy in a way. but to the stout man they were like pets.

"Stripes" Orca called in a slower fashion. Stripes the Stalker creaked it's head in his direction. "Go help unload the items we need." It leaped away from me, bounding over in a slow trot-like walk. "And be careful with those lithium batteries this time! You know what I mean! I didn't install those analysing reticles with that chip filled with all those items!" The large cat-robot gave two whirs that sounded a lot like 'OK' before disappearing around a corner. I took this chance to stand up and dust myself off.

"Where's Leo? I don't want to be jumped again." Orca came over carrying a wrench, his pale hands covered in oil. He gestured his head to what he just came from.

"Got hit by an AT round right in his right side. I'm piecing him together. Want to-"

"No thanks. I got a debrief to get to." Orca shrugged then strode over back to his workbench where I could then see the Stalker's head resting on the workbench.

* * *

 **So, you may have noticed a few changes in how I'm writing. Well, can't evolve skills without experimenting. So I hope you enjoy these changes, and I'll see you all in the next chapter. Which will take a while.**


	17. Arc II: The Virus Trail

_**In times of war, nothing is sacred. Not even nature itself.**_

 **Black Hills, SD, 12:23, 19th March 2037, Bear's POV**

* * *

Here we were. The Black Hills, South Dakota. In my childhood, my father took me here once to explore the national park, and a small heritage railroad while we visited family. It had been a great experience...I sometimes see him in myself, with my smart-ass attitude. Every time I see my reflection in a mirror, I would remember him. And this place was just another memory of those old days, before all the war. They never brought me to the day my hometown was scorched, only joyous and happy times.

But knowing there was a hidden railroad in those hills pained me to know that nothing was sacred anymore. The Virus Trail. It had been given that name by US forces and survivors because everything that came through was like a virus coming through our defense line. And nothing could stop them. The line began at Los Angeles, one of the first places taken by the KPA. Another line headed from Seattle. Construction had begun within the first year of their invasion, heading to USA's Eastern Seaboard. I felt that our plan was one of the craziest I had ever experienced or been a part of. Even crazier than _t_ _hat_ plan. Where I lost my team. We were about to hit the Virus Trail. Barely anyone ever came back from hitting a train along this railway line, and we were to be the first. The plan itself was reasonable. What could go wrong?

I sat on a rock, overlooking the scenery. Six quad bikes sat nearby. Five other men in Special forces gear and forest camouflage outfits and combat helmets waited, doing their own little things. Two were of my team; Wolf and Lion. Lion was using binoculars to watch over a small outpost next to The Virus Trail. We had found it hidden in the forest from here half an hour ago. In one hand, I held a small green canteen with my favorite drink.

"Aahh...nothing gets better than good ol' Whiskey." I caught a side glance from Lion, who shook his head in what seemed like disappointment. I gave him a wide grin, knowing what he was Thinking. But I could hold my liquor. "Want some?" I asked, waving the metal container around in his general direction. He gave me the middle finger in return. I shrugged then took another swig.

I took a few more before a change in scenery happened. A small black spec seemed to hover in the sky. At first, I thought it was a bird. Then it grew bigger. Seriously, what kind of bird is that large? Except a Condor, but they didn't live in this-

"Seeker!" That was enough to break me out of my thoughts. I rolled back and over the rock I sat on, landing with a low _oof_ against the hard ground. This was the eleventh one to pass by. A small black drone, much like a scaled down Predator drone. Designed to look like a bird until too close. We were just lucky some of us had binoculars before we got into sight range.

I watched the drone pass over, quiet as an owl hunting for a mouse. Once it's gone, me and the others begin to come out of our hiding places.

"That's the eleventh one in the last half hour. There is something up" one of the others said. Others nodded or said something in agreement, but I just watched it go in the distance, waiting for that drone to turn. Never did.

"Whatever Project Red Eye is, it is big...And that makes our mission more urgent" Wolf expressed, and rather plainly. Sometimes the guy scared me with all his 'no-emotion' thing, especially since he had only one eye working and the other as white as milk... _Mmm, milk._

"Pack up. That's the signal." I looked over to where my team leader had been staring, yet found nothing. So I shrugged to myself, readjusted my MP5 over my shoulder then tucked away my canteen. Then I jogged over to my quad bike, where one of the others waited on theirs, obviously my partner. At first, I was excited to talk with someone. Then Lion had to rear his mug in my direction.

"Lion, meet up with the others at the outpost. We will meet you there after we plant our charges." Lion gave a stiff nod and started to rev up his vehicle. I revved mine, ready to race forward. When he lurched forward, I wasn't so far behind, driving off the rocky clearing down a curved slope.

Occasionally I ducked a low branch or had an even lower branch scratch against my leg, but nothing too bad happened. Sure, the bottom of my quad slammed into a few rocks, but it didn't catch fire. I count that as fine. Dirt sprayed up from the tires. How I wished Lion was behind and not in front. I would be doing him a favor, anyway. Applying extra camouflage.

"Ain't this fun?!" I called ahead upon ignorant ears. _Rude_ didn't even cut it. I glowered over at him, only to get whacked in the face by some twigs. Mouthful of leaves is not a fun thing to have, especially if they have bugs on them. Not even sure if they did at the time, but if they did then they went in my stomach.

I suddenly realized a minute or so later that the ground was getting flatter as we started to slow down a little. But the forest around us remained just as dense as behind. If it were night, I would have seen lights from the station ahead. Lion stopped his vehicle, so I stopped mine just a few paces off. Just ahead was nine soldiers kneeling by a fallen log. One of them was Hawk. She had her cap on and a darker shade of camouflage. On her face were two streaks on either side of camo paint. In her hands she held scoped MK14 Mod 0 EBR rifle with bipod attachment. I knelt by, sending a light smile her way. She flickered one back for a second. On the whole team she was the second to give me a semi-friendly greeting.

"How many?" Lion questioned through his usual gruff tone.

"A small pack of stalkers, some aerial gun drones and one and a half company of foot soldiers...We going loud? That why we didn't bring silencers?"

"We got them jammed. And shooting will draw them out." Something about his hateful glare over at the outpost told me there was a different reason. You could call it my 'vengeful-intuition'. This guy had it out for them. And the fact that Wolf and the others had silencers already equipped. Then again, we could be just a distraction. I didn't fully know. However I knew when to keep my mouth shut about things.

Everyone began cocking automatic rifles and sub-machine guns, checking ammo clips and pockets all over the vests. However I was confident in myself, so didn't bother to check my gear over since I had done so back up at the observation point. I pulled my MP5 from over my shoulder to my chest, then stood so I was crouched and ready.

"Ready?" Lion asked the others. We nodded. He turned his head back ahead of us, then gave the signal. As much as I didn't want him to be in charge, I just went along. Although I did believe that someone so stuck-up should have the privilege. Everyone straighten into crouched positions from where they kneeled before creeping forward, only the chirps of birds being all we could hear alongside crunching of some leaves and twigs. From here, I could now see the outpost.

A small train station, a long guard rail along the cement platform, breaks in the rail here and there for most likely people along with crates to go through. Three guard towers stood, inactive searchlights hanging off their sides. Cement buildings covered by metal sheets were built around the center of the outpost, one of them being two stories which must have been the HQ of the place. A longer building than the others was the barracks, or so we assumed, and the other three being sheds. A large wire fence stretched along both sides of the railway track topped by barbed wire. No way would we be going over. Good thing we came prepared. We approached that wire fence, and once right alongside one of the unnamed soldiers produced a pair of wire cutters. I watched through the fence, just waiting for a guard to show his face in our direction. Last thing they would do.

For a quick moment we stopped at the hole, looking back to a higher point than where me and Lion had been. There was a light. Then it was gone. I let loose a grin, and with the others we went through the hole, one by one, weapons high.

One unlucky foot soldier was first to fall to one of my allies weapons. Painted a pole behind him that held up a metal roof over the platform after being torn at by a hailfire from an LMG. Didn't even have time to let out a cry of pain, but the rattle of bullets was enough to put the entire outpost on alert. Within seconds, we entered a full on firefight.

I took to my left after climbing the platform, taking out my M9 handgun to try and pin down those that fired at me. _Splat splat_ went heads of first responders. I slid into cover, holding my MP5 in my left hand. Once in proper cover which was one of the metal pillars holding the roof up, I holstered my handgun then switched hands with my main weapon.

Peeking over, I spotted my next three targets. They were all firing onto the edge of the platform, keeping everyone still down on the track pinned down. Quickly I released a barrage of rounds on them. Too bad for one of my allies. He hadn't gotten down in time. Got his shoulder clipped. At the time, I hadn't noticed.

"Stalkers! Left side!" My gaze turned on a pair of black metallic beasts. Clawed metal paws. Size of a bear, shape of a cat, minus a tail. Their head consist of a single eye and no lower jaw, a pair of contact stunners in their place. The blue eyes changed red at seeing us. Not a good sign, considering I was the closest to their position. One of them came charging over to me after letting loose a haunting robotic screech that chilled even me to the bone, though I was quick with my submachine-gun, my bullets shredding at it's armor. The second Stalker had other ideas, darting past me. It leaped right at one of my comrades that had been coming up, it's razor claws cutting his left arm clean off. It chittered in what seemed like satisfaction before striking again at their back. Splurts of blood came from their mouth, arching back at the strike. Already one man down, and the fight had only just begun. Yes, casualties had been expected, but not _this early_!

I turned on my heel to fire, only to hear a sound soldiers dread in moments like these. _A click_. I unload my current clip, the click earning unwanted attention. Those moments where I think nothing could go wrong? I regretted thinking that before. Stalker Two took a menacing step to me, it's metal claws chiming against cement...Then a shell burst right through the back armor, cutting clean through wiring and metal. Another thank you Hawk had earned for later. At first I felt that I should have checked on that wounded man. Then a bullet whistled by.

"Right. Fight" I muttered to myself, to get my head into gear. Leaning out of cover, I focused on a small group over to the right, pinning down Lion. That gave him an opening large enough for him to throw a grenade, instead of blindly throwing it, right into them. I guessed he wouldn't thank me later, yet a part of me still hoped he would as I glanced over at him. That's when I caught sight of them.

Another pair of Stalkers came, this time backed up by five gun drones. These have three propellers and coverings above those propellers, a small gun that fired 10 5.8 mm rounds per second. These rounds with their gun were capable of piercing through walls and taking down many unarmored targets with ease. And with them being used in T3AK's, the KPA's commonly used rifle, those rounds came mass produced.

Two of the drones swept in my direction alongside one of the Stalker's. Both drones fired, and I was just lucky enough to skirt around to miss their multiple rounds. A long sweep of my gun, firing without pause, took one out. The other managed to fire, hitting me in the chest. My bulletproof vest saved me from death, allowing me to finish off my attacker. Lion finished the other Stalker while mine kept on coming. Only to get hit right in it's side to fall on it's side from a shotgun blast of someone that machine had failed to see. Stupid robot. You'd think they would have made them smarter, like those Terminators from those films.

But those flying drones, they were becoming a nuisance. More came in, buzzing around our heads like angry crows after our lunch. Things weren't looking too bad beside them, having taken out all the remaining Stalkers.

"Yeah. We can do this" I told myself. Well, if I had known what was coming, I would have just kicked myself. Mentally and physically.

A light armor came into the fray, firing a hail of rounds. Tearing apart all the pillars. I could hear the metal roof groaning under strain. Yet it held. How lucky we were about that. But it wasn't done there. The cannon on the vehicle began firing rapidly across the cement platform, hitting around our cover. I could feel them rush by, shredding my pole. That was enough to send me running to another spot to use as cover, a cement blockade. I could hear rounds rebounding off their vehicle. That gave me an idea of what I had to do.

Reaching down toward waist height on my back I pulled out a China Lake Grenade Launcher. Aiming just above the vehicle hull, I fired a round. Hit square into one of it's metal doors. Then I ducked back, pumped, aimed over and fired another. Lucky hit that must have hit just above the hole the gunner sat in.

"And that is why they call me The Hole In One Wonder" I said with a mockful voice and grin, like those guys in those action movies. _How I missed those films._ I pumped again, then this time aimed over at a group of men coming out of one of the warehouses. Two of them wearing very heavy gear. Over all, I was surprised they could walk in that gear. Looked like some kind of sumo wrestler with all that gear on. Carrying QBB-95 LSW, chinese Light-Machine Guns. Still amazed me how they could have joined the KPA.

My grenade hit right in their midst taking out all of them in one hit. Or well, most of them. One of the heavy's stood back up, then unleashed his hellfire upon me. One round clipped my arm, that I could feel. Caused a bit of a hiss in pain from it too. What I hadn't seen was the drone in my face. Hovering there, just waiting for me to turn.

"Well, shi-" I was cut off by an earsplitting explosion. Not literally, or otherwise I would be deaf. I covered my ears, falling to my knees. From the corner of my eye I could spot a small object to my left. A grenade. An EMP grenade. Sure, it saved my life, but why'd it have to be so freaking close?! "OW! Not so close!" I was so busy covering my ears that I didn't hear them pound into the last KPA man standing. I felt a hand on my shoulder, which I shrugged off. "I'm fine." Waving them off, I stood up without help, letting my MP5 hang loose. I opened my eyes in time to see Hawk coming through the fence, MK14 in hand.

"Gotta thank you, Ms. Hawk Girl. You really saved my ass there with that big pussy cat there" I thanked, holding a hand down to her after heading to the edge of the platform. She suppressed a chuckle for reasons unknown, and reasons I would never understand. She took my hand, allowing me to pull her up.

"You weren't too bad yourself..Mr. _The Hole In One Wonder_." I remained stunned, then realised with a wide, stupid grin. "Yep. You left it on." That explained why my ear tingled after the EMP. Ah well. No shame in someone hearing me. As long as it wasn't when I wasn't in the field, I was fine with it.

"You two! Get over here!" Someone shouted. I grimaced at seeing Lion staring over at us, his ever-so-rock-hard glare set on me. What he do, keep that face when the wind changed? I strolled over alongside Hawk. She came along gracefully, as if she was almost weightless. I could tell she was light on her fight, and that must have helped a lot. "Bear, take that building" he ordered, pointing to the two-story building. I rolled my eyes. Not like this guy was my leader. But for the sake of staying on this team, I followed along.

"Yeah, sure thing." I began to jog over, MP5 at the ready just in case someone decided to pop out. One other came with me, already beating me to a ladder on the side. I waited for them to start up, then I followed along. However, something caught my eye. A gleam of light through the trees, behind the station. Shining through an incoming fog. Then it disappeared. So I shrugged it off and continued upwards.

Wasn't until I was up on the roof that worry took hold. At least two dozen little blue lights, and one big light shining through the trees.

"What the hell..." I glanced down at the others and called down, one hand cupped around my mouth and the other pointing. "Hey, anyone see those lights?!" They all looked over. Then I heard it. A screeching howl in the distance, followed by several others. And a rumbling.

"Everyone, get down-" A single rocket burst through the trees, hitting the edge of the roof I stood out. Then everything went black, the only words forming in my mind being; _Fuck me._

* * *

 **Boom.**

 **So that's another chapter done. Quite a bit of action, wasn't it? I might have done more, but I had a busy week and I wanted to get this done. So there you have it. See you in the next chapter everyone!**


	18. Arc II: Plans Never Go As Expected

**Black Hills, SD, 12:34, 19th March 2037, Wolf's POV**

* * *

I watched from a short distance as the two quadbikes disappeared down the slope. Once gone, they were on their own. Only God, and the team at the bottom was with them. The fog was rolling in below. That would no doubt make things hard on all of them. As soon as I was done, I would be sure to head down. Looking around I saw faces from other teams. None of their faces bothered me, for they all held in their emotions. Nothing could go bad, as long as we concentrated.

People who mucked up because they didn't focus are people I frowned upon. Bear was no help with that. We needed to set him straight, but that was for another time. And besides, that would be hard. I knew why he acted that way. It was a coping mechanism. After what he went through, it must have been traumatic. Even for a Navy SEAL. Everyone but him was part of the original team, when it was formed. We'd lost many along the way, and Bear was a much needed replacement, or so Command had believed.

I remembered the good old days, when as a Navy SEAL I did covert operations, inserting upon beaches and coastal towns. Riding on ships and submarines. Rescuing high value targets and taking out others. Then after the invasion, I'm fighting in a war in a rebellion.

 _"They will be fine"_ I thought to myself, to comfort myself. To focus on the mission at hand. Everyone had to do their part.

The other team leader gave a nod to everyone. We started revving our bikes. After the third rev, our vehicles went racing along the path we had been going along. Below to our left, fog was rolling in. That would certainly not help Lion's team one bit. They were going to have a tough time down there soon. So far, no gunfire below. A welcome sign that everything was going to plan. Then again, when did anything ever go to plan all the way?

My radio on my shoulder buzzed as someone tried to make contact. I clicked the talk button and listened in.

"Five-hundred metres ahead is the target. We will stop at three-hundred to avoid detection. How copy?"

"I copy" I replied back to them. Then I clicked it off. I felt so glad Bear wasn't here. He would have been making so much noise they would have been able to snipe us before we reached our holding point.

Trees and shrubs lined our paths sides, covering our approach from unwanted eyes. Couldn't have picked a better path. Then the path turned up a bit on a slope. I hated slopes. They took so long to climb. Used to leave me huffing at training. Before...all this. Those were the days. Damn, I hated to admit it but I missed those days. Better than running from city to city like going from foxholes across a battle-scarred field against heavy fire. From not so long ago, the trail had become wet by a rainstorm. The clouds had cleared some time ago. No rain would be coming for some time. Hopefully.

Our mini convoy halted at the top of the slope. Our man at the front, the other team leader, held up a hand as a halt signal. We braked then cut our engines. He made more hand signals. I stepped off my quadbike before readying my M4 Carbine with a silencer and ACOG attached. Two of my team remained on their quads. One had an M14 EBR and the other a MSR sniper rifle. They would cover our backs.

That left four of us left to attack. I approached the edge of the slope. Below was a fenced off cement building. On top were a couple of radar dishes and an antenna in between. It only consisted of one floor. Plenty for a communications outpost. If we knocked this out, bye-bye to any reinforcements.

With a flick of the team leader's wrist ahead, we moved down the slope. So far I saw a couple targets on the roof and a few along the fenceline, illuminated by the sun behind us. We halted in some shrubs a few feet away from the fence. Next to me I heard the sound of a launcher being loaded with a _pop_ sound.

 _One, Two, Three, Four, Five_. The launcher fred a smoke-trailed projectile over the fence into the path of two KPA soldiers. It began to spin, swallowing them in smoke. On queue we pulled down our heat-vision goggles.

"Go!" Another of my teammates withdrew a pair of wire cutters to cut by the gate lock. A snap cracked through the air, followed by a bloodspray of a soldier aiming down at us. The smoke cloud covered up his fall. The other two on the ground were cut down by our weapons. Right away, three soldiers down.

"Move in! Cole, left flank!"

"Covering left flank!"

I fired rounds around the right corner as a KPA foot soldier came around. In my good eye through my goggles their body glowed a bright orange. Knew that wouldn't be for too long. No shots from the enemy had been fired yet. No shouting until they were all down and they finally realised what was going on. I took an explosive charge from my pack and set the charge on the nearby cement wall then pulled the fuse. After I stepped back, knowing full well what was about to happen. An explosion was all it took on the measly thin cement wall to blow it in.

Next I tossed in a readied flashbang. One big bang and people were screaming in Korean about being blind, running around in dismay. Two of us went in; me and the team leader. Clearing left and right inside. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't gotten to shooting quickly enough. How emotionless I must have looked, it would have sent chills down the spines of my family, even of Bear. I could see the fear he had for me in his eyes. Swinging my barrel left to right, making a wave of rounds cut them down. You want to know how I felt? Truly, I was pretty scared myself. Afterwards, I had scared myself by what happened. We took no prisoners. I mean, they were people too. Just following orders. You'd think a guy like me would be used to it all after serving over twenty years. Truth is, I never got used to it. I just pushed those feelings back.

"Clear left!"

"Clear right!"

"Building clear!" Check ammo!"

So far, everything went well. Before long, we had cleared the place.

"Keep the All Clear signal on. We do not want any reinforcements coming." One of them, Cole, nodded. He headed over to one of the many tables holding radios and consoles on top.

The inside of this bunker wasn't as complex as one would think when they hear 'communications outpost'. Some would imagine a bunch of chairs and tables, radios and consoles and other machines. But no. Just one table with three radios, a computer, some consoles along one and another table with a map. Plus the cabinet across the room filled to the brim with supplies and cement walls, it was more like a bunker.

I almost jumped when something smashed behind us. Whirling around I saw nothing in the hole. Then one of the rubble rocks rocked a bit. I figured there that the little rock had fallen to the floor. Lucky us it wasn't some lucky bastard that survived the attack.

I couldn't help it, but something felt...well, felt odd. This had just been too easy. Nothing was ever this easy. For a few minutes, everything went well. And that's when I got the call that confirmed my suspicions. A call in the form of an explosion. Our heads swivelled in unison to the hole in the wall. In a hurry we rushed out to find what had caused it. Seeing the fireball shoot up, it made me feel the same way inside. I exploded. A scowl covered my face, the scar over my dead eye rippling as my scowl deepened.

"Fuck it, what did they do?! I said be quiet! And they cause an explosion!" Me and two others ran up to the quads where the two snipers waited. "Go!" They nodded and started back down the slope. I ignored the hoarseness of my voice. As quickly as one could say Alabama, I was on and started back down the slope to the meeting point. From there, we headed right down to the railway track.

Without my noticing, the fog had rolled in over the railway outpost, making way for a large column of smoke to rise above. Some flickers of light appeared as gunshots fired off all around the outpost and inside. _'Lion, I left you in charge. What the hell did you do?'_

Gunshots grew louder as we closed in. It sounded like the Fourth Of July back in my hometown before the war. May have been wiser to not be seen, yet I had had enough of things going wrong. If I found out who's fault it was, I would be kicking them in the chin after giving them a death stare using my pearly-white eye.

As we got closer, I got a crackle over my radio. Immediately I answered, clicking on my radio.

"Wolf, we got a problem!"

"Damn right we do! I said to be quiet down there! You better have a damn good excuse for all of that-"

"GOLIATH!" I stopped there. Had I heard right? I wished I had heard wrong at that moment. If I hadn't, then we might as well have headed straight into a live fire range as targets. I hoped to God we still had an explosive charge left. Things were not going to go well if there was one. Another explosion ahead got my attention. A silhouette through the fog caught my eye.

 _"Shit. It is one."_ I glanced over at the others as we all came to a stop behind a fallen log. Some hand signals were passed around until a quick plan formulated. I was chosen to go right up, going over the railway. Several bodies lay upon the platform. _"Great. More cleanup to get done."_

From what I saw as soon as I vaulted onto the platform, everything was going to hell. A section of the second floor of the central building had been blown apart, part of a metal ladder hanging off. Fire rose from the destroyed building. Five mechanical beats, one with a gun on top, were scattered around the rear of the small outpost. A whole squad of KPA soldiers fired from cover, one of them using a laser designator. And in a hole in the fence, there sat what I dreaded to see. A challenge no doubt for us. The Goliath.

The Goliath was a six-wheeled heavily-armored vehicle armed with a heavy .50 caliber machine gun and rocket battery, capable of firing bursts of rockets to decimate targets. It looked like an enlarged rover armed by guns. It was autonomous, requiring no pilot to drive like much of the KPA's army.

The laser designator gave me an idea. I put my plan into action right away by going around to flank. On my right a soldier in the ruined building spotted me. I filled his mouth with led before he could empty his words. They fell back, gun falling to the ground. A rocket from the Goliath flew by a group of troops I guessed were who had survived the attack. The leftovers of Lion's team. Two I could see had been downed, laying on the ground. One of them flailing about as if he had been shot in the worst place imaginable. Something did worry me though. Their numbers, they were down by two.

I refocused on my objective. Where those two missing personnel had gone, we would have to worry on that later. I had to focus on the current matter. The Goliath remained motionless, it's turret the only thing moving. Pinning down the remnants of the base's attackers. Stalkers and KPA troops advanced slowly. A couple went down from the two snipers that had pulled back a bit, giving me covering fire.

A Stalker leaped at my side. I sidestepped, only for my back be scratched by it's metallic claws. Then it tumbled, a disembodied head clanging away after a snap of a bullet being fired. However the shot had been too late as I stumbled forward, my weapon falling from my hands. A shot fired off from the dropped rifle, drawing attention my way when the bullet barely missed a KPA grunt's head. My blind eye must have clenched closed as I winced in both pain and at how such a near miss could have proven fatal for moe, since it drew their attention my way. Gunfire came at me from both soldiers and the mounted weapon on the Alpha Stalker. The Alpha was larger than the others and had red stripes across it's head, back and legs.

Right away I began scrambling for cover, using my legs to push me through the dirt. The fog helped in covering me from their sight. But that Goliath and Stalker, they must have had thermal. Cause the still kept on hammering down on my position. Drawing my pistol, I managed to peek around and fire off some blind shots, trying to score a hit on something.

Another explosion rocked the area. More rubble spilled from a wall in front of me, the trail of the rockets carving a path through the fog. That moment, I made my chance. I sprinted out of cover, injured back stinging like someone dumped a bucket of salt over it. Trust me, that stings.

In my other hand I held a single grenade. Along the other side of the outpost ran the Special Ops team leader, going along the outside of the fence. If we timed this strike right, we could end the battle just like that.

Bullets winded past, just missing behind me. As it were, I was too fast. Or they were too stupid to aim in front of me. Then again, I was returning fire. And Lion with the others backing him up were pushing. Surely enough to gain their attention away from me. My legs already aching, my lungs seeming out of breath, it reminded me how old I really was. But I never let that stop me.

Once close enough, I pulled the pin of the grenade and chucked it as far as I could. Right at the Goliath. The EMP grenade went off, messing with it's circuits. I knew it worked when the gun suddenly jerked around and the wheels spun in random directions. It was a lucky thing the grenade had landed right beneath the gun, since that bought enough time for the person behind the drone to climb on and plant their charge. Too late did the Goliath recover as a fireball erupted from where the machine once was, a combination of the explosion from the charge, ammo and fuel. So large it knocked me off my feet.

And so were all the KPA soldiers. The two remaining Stalkers were buffeted, Alpha included, but their claws kept them upright. The large explosion did draw in their gazes, though. Then their heads fell to the ground after cut off by shots.

I just laid there as more shots sounded off around me. My lungs had given their all to keep me going. Some shouts sounded off. By the time it was all over, most of the fog had cleared off. Small fog, I guess. Sunlight revealed the aftermath. I saw it all when Lion pulled me up, patting me on the back. Little sore but I managed.

Many bodies laid out. Most KPA. All but one. The other who had been laying in cover had been killed, as fate would have it. Most likely in an instant. The smoking wreckage of the Goliath would most definitely be hard to clean up. But I already had an idea formulating about that. The Stalkers would be easier. Anyway, we had about eight hours before out train came. Plenty of time, right? Of course, we had other problems.

Two people headed over to the rubble of the center building. Now that would be impossible to clean up. What I didn't think about was what lay underneath. Till I heard what Hawk shouted.

"Help me here. Bear's under here!" Got me scrambling when I heard that. I may have been annoyed by him, but that never stopped me from helping a fellow soldier.

"Lion! Get over here and pick up that rail!" Lion nodded and set down his rifle to pick up a metal railing, a cement block at one end. I grabbed one of them and tried desperately to lift. My lungs were exasperated, almost empty of air. My back ached, stung in fact. I could feel the chalky texture of the rubble in my hands. I kept on digging though. Until I came across something that stopped me. Hawk halted as well. A _hand_. I took the wrist. No pulse.

"I-Is that-"

"No."

"He's dead, ain't he?" Lion asked. I nodded. Yet I couldn't help but sigh in relief. This hand was tanned, but not as dark as Bear. Yes, this was a dead man. Nothing we could do. But Bear still remained here. We kept going until I finally found a boot. "Here!" Lion ran over to give me aid. Moving rubble out of the way around the boot. I grabbed the hand I saw. A pause...And a pulse came. "He's alive."

"Oh thank god." Hawk sighed in relief, said filling flooding her face. I couldn't lie, but I felt relieved too. Even the deep lines around my blind eye untensed.

"Someone get this damn idiot out of here!" We dug and dug and dug until finally we got him out.

"I'll get him out of here. Then I will help with cleaning up. Lion, meet me at the Stalkers." Lion nodded in confirmation, a mild scowl on his face at the unconscious soldier.

With him safe, I went to start moving bodies. Blood trails followed them behind. As I did this, a plan formulated in my mind. No way would the troops on the train believe this place was left unscathed. We would have to make up a story about this place having been struck, but defended. That meant disguises.

One of the Special Forces, the team leader, was suiting up. He had knowledge on the Korean language, so he would be able to act as the outpost commander. Me, I had another part in this large plan of ours.

I managed to pull a second KPA trooper into one of the rear buildings before A feeling rippled around in my chest that felt like I had just been stabbed. I fell on the floor, clutching my chest. My face contorted into one of filled with pain. I heard a shuffle behind me of boots across the cement floor.

"Wolf."

"Yes Miller?" I replied, my voice feeling hoarse in my throat. The team leader, Miller, had a worried glint in his eyes. His pale face seemed to glow in the sun.

"Get some rest. You deserve it. Especially after running out like that."

I turned my eye on him. My blind eye, piercing metaphorical daggers at his face. That usually sent chills running down other people's spines. Not Miller though.

"Don't try that with me, Al. I still remember that other brown eye being there." I sighed. Miller knew me too well. If I ever had a brother, Miller would know more about me than that brother. "You know, maybe it's better if you stayed here. On that train, it'll be tough on you. Maybe you should-"

"I'm fine."

"Alex, stop this nonsense" Miller scolded in a low voice. "It's getting worse. You know that." I held my hand against my chest, feeling my heartbeat going _thump thump thump_. One day there would be no more thumps. But it was not going to be this day.

"I'm _fine_."

Miller stood up, shaking his head. We both knew I was far from fine. My condition got worse by the day. But I was not going to back down because of something killing me from the inside. I would not be defeated. I held out my hand, and he grabbed hold to pull me up in one swift motion. But he did not let go. He just held me there, staring right at me.

"I'm telling you, not as a fellow soldier, but as a friend. Don't ignore this. It will not pass." I shrugged him off and headed out. The train would be in a few hours. We couldn't afford losing time.

* * *

Time flew by, making hours feel shorter. By dusk, it had arrived. A hulking mass of metal moving at a hundred and a half miles per hour. Pretty fast for a train back in the day before all this. But now, it was the GKR who had all the fast things. Nineteen cars, four of them flat cars. A massive bulk of an engine at the front. With electricity having been mostly taken out across America, it would have taken too long for them to maintain power along the track. So they stuck to older methods of coal. Billows of smoke puffed out from the top. A single large headlight led the way, lighting the track ahead.

It hissed as it came to a stop at the platform. If things were like how they were before, they would have no doubt been clambering out. Instead, they only came out calmly, some of them wearing anxious and confused looks about them. Quite possibly due to half a building missing.

From a distance I sat in a warehouse. In there was Bear. He had woken up half an hour ago. All around us were crates filled to the brim with munitions and other much needed supplies. Save for two empty ones right behind us.

"What's goin' on?" I held a finger to my lips to shush him silently. So far, nothing had happened. The squad leader from the train approached where Miller-in-disguise stood. He had taken the commanding officer's clothing. Good thing he was half-Chinese or he may never have pulled it off. Once the train squad leader arrived mere inches away from Miller's face, some talking was exchanged. I was too far to hear, and both had face masks so I could not read lips.

"Can you hear them?"

"Does it look like I can?"

"Well, I can't exactly see words going in your ears. So that's a no." I shook my head, moving my gaze away from the window and to the man beside me, leaning against the wall beneath the window.

"Bear. Can I trust you?" He looked almost baffled by my question. "When we get on that train, can I trust you to not make any quips, any unneeded remarks. I know why you do it, it's your coping mechanism. But I need you focused." Bear remained silent, though by his expression he was contemplating it. His brows furrowed as he thought on it. Then, he scowled over at me.

"You know, that ain't something I can do easily. I mean, I could try and all. But I doubt it." I sighed. What could I expect? I put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, hand clasped tightly on his shoulder.

"Just this once. I know that what happened to you was bad, and I have been there." I pointed to my blind eye. "This is an example of this. I have seen people get shot before my eyes, people fall. A man get shot down by a sniper, someone stepping on an AT mine. But listen, you have to get past it. You have to put it all behind you. People die."

At that moment, I was sure I had gotten through to him. But then his face twisted into something I had not seen yet. Anger. Full anger. His hands balled into fists. His brows furrowed into a glare. Staring daggers at me. I was genuinely surprised, but not intimidated. I sat there nonchalantly as he began speaking.

"You've seen a couple of good people die at a time. Not five, not ten. Not thirty. Not a hundred people, fighting to save others...There's a reason why it was called the Massacre of Salt Lake City." Those words hit a mark. I knew all about it. One hundred men went in to save civilians from a bombed city. Those civilians had escaped from multiple GKR settlements around the country.

Out of those one hundred, only one came out. Bloodied, ankle twisted the wrong way. I knew that day well, cause I was there when that lone soldier and ten civilians came off an Osprey aircraft. I removed my firm grip from his shoulder, a soft touch to my expression. An expression my face was not used to doing since..well, since a long time.

I was about to make a reply when I heard some chatter. Peeking up to see outside, I saw two soldiers coming. One of them one of our men disguised. The other a KPA soldier. Quickly I opened the crate behind me and put my leg over into it. Bear was doing the same as soon as I had stood up. We did our best to be quiet, and that was easy with a whistle sounding off from the train. But before I set the lid over my head, Bear said something. Something I did not forget after.

"You sure this plan will work?" Truthfully, I was too hopeful that it would. I chose not to answer and set the lid over me, concealing me in darkness. Save for two little eye holes to watch the world go by.

* * *

 **Here's the next chapter. And for all those wondering what's going on with Wolf, he has...**

 **You didn't think I'd actually tell you yet, did you? No, not yet. That is for another time. So, something you may be wondering; "Why are these chapters shorter than the rest?" Well, that's because this arc is relatively short. It is more of a 'setting the stage for something else' type of arc. So I hope that satisfies whoever was wondering that. And until next time, see you all in the next chapter!**


	19. Arc II: Midnight Train

**Somewhere In SD, 23:40 , 19th March 2037, Bear's POV**

* * *

So, there we were. Two of us. Each in a crate. On a midnight train, filled with bad guys. Armed to the teeth. Add to that drones and automated sentries along the armored train, and anyone would see this as a suicide mission. The box bumped around against the others as the train click-clacked along the track. I heard no steps outside of my crate. No patrols came through. It had been at least five minutes since we got on. Waiting for the signal.

A light whistle from inside the room. That was it. Slowly, I lifted the crate lid with one hand, handgun in the other. Across from me Wolf did the same, scanning around with his one good eye. No sign of patrols, and the last one we had heard go by was half a minute ago. For now, we were clear.

We both stepped out slowly. Our handguns weighed a little more than usual due to the suppressors fixed onto the end. The same with my MP5. We silently touched our feet down onto the floor of the train. No squeaks to ruin our day.

"So, Big Man, what's the plan?" His one-eyed glare was enough to tell me to never call him that again. "Sorry." His glare softened. I swear I even saw him grin.

"We move up the train, slowly. No shots, unless you are sure it's a killshot. And no bodies left behind. We dump them off the train, if we can. If you can't get the shot, don't take it. We can't let them know we are on here." We crept up through the crate-packed car. It was somewhere in the middle. We needed to be at the front. "The distraction team at the back will be drawing them back there, so stay hidden. Can you do that?" I nodded confidently.

"Course I can. I know when to keep my big mouth shut."

"Don't get overconfident." If I was any more childish, I would have stuck my tongue out. But this was no time for childish acts (even if I really wanted to), but a time to be serious. I put my warface on, serious all over. We remained crouched, trying our best to stick to the side. The boxes weren't tied down so they moved about here and there. Some blocked off the side.

Wolf gave a hand signal for 'hold' when we reached the door. A single door, shaking from the train's movement. He peered through the one window, then pushed a button above him, and it slid open to another crate filled car. We had no idea how many cars had crates in them. Sure, they gave good cover. But not much maneuverability. And if someone threw a grenade in here...well, who knew what was in these crates. Explosives, ammunition. Something that could make this whole car go boom with us in it.

I got curious at the first crate, and took a peek inside. Inside were cases. I opened the top one to find a T3AK rifle with ammunition. I took it out, with ammo clips, then closed the case up and the crate. Just in case.

Then I went on after shouldering my new rifle. It would surely come in handy later, if we have to go loud and I run out of ammunition on my MP5.

The train rocked as something exploded. I steadied myself on a crate, still holding my MP5 ready. I looked over at Wolf.

"Distraction?"

"Distraction." That meant we had to go quietly, yet faster. We passed all the crates, crouched low and feet moving. I heard thudding as soon as we reached the door. Wolf didn't have to say a word, as I was already down behind crates. The door slid open, and a squad of soldiers came running through in single file. I counted at least five, or more like guessed since I could not see them. The door closed behind them and soon their footsteps faded. I counted to five.

 _One, two, three, four._..I peeked over, putting the MP5 over the top. No one in sight, except an already standing Wolf. He nodded then moved to open the door. It slid open. And just to say, never have I seen someone as old as him move so fast. One second the door was opening, and then the next he's firing he's suppressed pistol...Okay, so maybe not that fast.

I knew it must have been a flat car, since I could hear the rushing wind. I didn't know it was three of them. Wolf went outside, I followed to have wind pushing against me. And in Wolf's arms, a dead guard. Most likely left behind to take a piss or something. No matter, he was dead and being chucked over the side.

I looked to the back of the train from around the car we just came from. Some smoke billowed out of the side of one of the rear ones. Some distraction.

"What did they do?" I muttered aloud.

"Made a distraction." I glanced over, and I couldn't tell if he admired their plan, or was dumbfounded. He was that hard to read sometimes. I shrugged it off, and moved across the flat car.

It had several strapped down large crates, large enough to fit a small vehicle. The wind and constant tipping side to side a little made them wobble, you could definitely imagine those ropes snapping and just crushing everyone on the car, or simply falling off. A couple of fuel tanks toward the front. Surely would be of use for vehicles of our own. It really did explain how they could keep their own frontlines sturdy with this steady income of supplies. Made us more eager to control this track. And not only would it cut off supplies for them, but it would give us direct access to behind their lines... _Hopefully._

 _"Would they be all right?"_ I thought to myself for a moment. I shook my head. _"Of course they would. They had a secret weapon. And Hawk had great aim, and Lion was tough and hard-headed."_

As we walked across the car stealthily, I looked over at the mountains. It was no surprise it was so hidden, especially at night. Besides the lights along the sides of the flat cars so that anyone walking on them could see their way and the front lights, it would have been very hard to see from above with the mountains around.

Wolf suddenly ducked, which I saw in my peripherals, so I did the same. Just in time too as the door opened and another squad came through. I tried to get a glimpse of Wolf, and that's when I saw it. A radio, no doubt from the last KPA soldier he got out of our way. _Smart_. The troops kept going and we remained silent until the all passed. And this time, they all did. We moved through the door, conveniently left open, and back into a closed off car. This one was more like a passenger car. And it was empty...Or so we thought.

Halfway through, some movement got my attention on a seat ahead. A tired looking soldier sat up. We couldn't get a shot off as he juggled around his own rifle in his own hands to fire back. We fired first. But that never stopped them from firing off a shot. Right into the window, causing a loud shatter of glass. We waited. Waited, for someone to come through that door. No one did.

 _Too close_. _Much too close._ Wolf lowered his weapon and went to the body. Then dumped it out the window.

"Well, that was pretty close, huh?" Wolf made no answer, and just went through the door. I followed closely behind, my trying-to-bright-the-mood smile failing.

That's when we both saw it. A bright red light near the ceiling, attached to a 9.6 mm automated turret. The bright light was from a motion sensor, capable of reaching several meters ahead. Rounds were capable of being fired quickly, at around 600 rpm. The power behind the rounds could put holes in us with ease. It was attached to a rotary emplacement, capable of 360 degree rotation. It demonstrated this power when it detected us. Apparently this one had a very loud, shrill alarm that went off. I dove to the side and behind a chair, holding my hands to my ears. My MP5 dropped to my chest from the strap it was on.

I could hear someone shouting, so I put one hand off. It was Wolf.

"Cover me, or take that thing out!" I glanced over to see two KPA had come to beneath the turret. The turret kept on shooting, aimed at Wolf. I took my T3AK off my back and readied to fire over the chair. Wolf blind fired some rounds, and I took that as my chance by emptying the loaded clip into the emplacement. It exploded as I hit the ammo box, sparks falling over the soldiers as well as burning pieces of metal. They let out shouts of pain as searing hot metal fell over their faces. We finished them off, but it was too late. Even though the alarm had stopped, it was only a matter of time. But Wolf, he was a quick thinker. He shot out the window on his side, and climbed out.

"Follow! Now!" I followed along with his crazy plan to climb out. The wind would have knocked my head off if it had been loosely attached. It buffeted against me at the speed the train was going. I continued to pull out from the window, and just in time. My feet were barely missed by enemy bullets. Way too close.

I looked up to see Wolf already on top, extending a hand down. I grabbed it and he pulled me up. And it was great weren't in a tunnel, or we would have to be scraped off the ceiling of the tunnel.

"Stay low!" I kept low, crawling across the roof. Branches brushed by, almost hitting us. One scratched my forehead, and I could feel a trickle of blood. We kept going, until a ping and a spark beside me caught my attention. Glancing back I saw them trying to follow. I rolled onto my back and fired, taking a few shots before hitting them in the chest. They vanished after they fell.

"Live through that, why don't you?!" My face went from mocking to surprise as another popped up and fired. I did the same, and the same result. Besides the fact one bullet hit my shoulder, just grazing it. "Dammit!" I rolled back over to see Wolf way ahead. I followed after, ignoring the flaring pain. I had to catch up. He glanced up, then dropped down. In the dark, I couldn't see it. Until it was two cars ahead. A very low branch. I pushed myself up and tried to crawl forward quickly on my hands and quickly turned myself to fall feet first just as the branch went over. I even heard a quiet thwack as it hit someone behind us.

So far, this had been just a bunch of close calls. Wolf opened the door to the next car and went in. At the other end, the door opened and two soldiers came in. One carrying a quadcopter drone armed with two 5.56 mm miniguns. One soldier went to start shooting while the other activated their drone. A terribly bad idea, as this area had a roof. Not much room for it to move. But then I saw how it was good, as it went straight to firing to keep us down. Peeking around I could see the two soldiers advancing slowly. I made a hand signal to Wolf who was pinned down. He nodded and readied a flashbang. Using three fingers, I counted to three.

One...

Two...

And the flashbang was out on three, blinding and deafening the soldiers. I sprang up, firing as quickly as I could at the drone and taking it out. It exploded in a shower of sparks and debris, falling to the floor. We adjusted on to the soldiers who had no time to react. They fell.

"Move up, now!" Moving up with weapon up, we moved ahead up the train.

Almost every car had something, till the fourth. The next car we moved into had a small group of drones flying by the windows. We ducked our heads down and kept moving. They continued to follow us into the third passenger car where some KPA were moving through. They pinned us down upon entry. Luckily Wolf had good aim and managed to hit one of the propellers off one of the drones, that flew right through the window and hit the three KPA soldiers.

The fourth was clear. A good thing, allowing us to take a breather. Wolf coughed up a bit, but I just assumed at the time that his age was catching up on him.

"We're almost at the front. Just two more cars." I nodded, sighing in relief. Just two more cars. Then we would be done. So feeling a bit rushed, I headed on to the door of the next one. And looked through the window on the door. What I saw, it made me hold my breath. To say the least, it was not what we expected.

"Uh, Wolf? You might want to come and see this." He muttered something under his breath and came to the door. Only to be caught silent by what we both saw. At least a dozen crates, with a 'Biohazard' sign on each side. "What the hell is this? I don't remember anything like this in the briefing." Wolf shook his head.

"Neither do I. Watch my back." I nodded, lifting the T3AK up to watch behind and in front.

This car had no doors. It was colder than the rest, no doubt to preserve whatever was in those boxes. However I found it odd there was no double door, and the fact that the soldiers would have had to come through here without any protective gear. With his gloved hands, Wolf carefully opened the closest crate. Even from where I was standing I could feel the sudden chill from the refrigerated crate. I couldn't help but to peek over Wolf's shoulder as he took what was inside. A small vial. Each in it's own little socket in stacked metal pans. The frozen liquid inside was a sickly green-yellow. It almost made me sick, looking like liquefied vomit almost.

"That don't look right" I muttered, staring in awe. Wolf made no answer. Instead his full attention was on the vial. He put it into one of his breast pockets, as we had no other place to put it.

"Let's keep moving." We moved through the last car. Opening the door, it was one last covered car, about twice the size in length and a half taller then the passenger cars. And oddly enough, absolutely clear besides a couple of small tables and folded chairs. A deck of cards on one of the tables sat there, a few hands around the table. This must have been where some of the soldiers hanged out near the front.

"Move up" Wolf ordered. I followed the order and went across the car to the other end, walking cautiously. I reached the door. And reached for the handle...

Only to pull my hand back and turn, weapon at the ready as something crashed. There stood a tall humanoid machine. A thickly armored drone, covered in black paint and it's head shaped like a samurai from ancient times for visual effect, no doubt. In both hands it held assault rifles, and on its back which was facing us was a long, black steel katana. It stood at eight and a half feet, definitely taller than myself. A red light glowed across the floor from it's front. They had been upgraded a lot over time, becoming larger and heavier built. Designed as a prototype several years by Japan before the KPA took them over.

"Oh fuck!"

"Oni!" As soon as Wolf shouted that I was ready and firing my first round. It pinged off it's back, but I didn't stop firing. Each shot pinged off without any damage. I could hear Wolf's weapon doing the same. The Oni rotated it's torso to its right till an arm faced either end, then it lifted both arms up and let loose bullets. I ran and flipped one of the tables. Wolf made a run for the door and held out outside the car. I peeked around when it stopped firing. Only about 40 rounds in the clip, I guessed by the speed the ammo ran out. But the large machine was far from finished. It paused, then dropped the rifles. I ran out of ammo as on of it's hands went for the katana. As it did, it slowly turned it full body toward me. My gaze went up to it's face, and there I saw the central eye. A large red orb. Staring right back at me, glowing against my face. Once the blade was drawn, it charged faster than anyone would think it was capable, judging by its size.

It swung down, cutting the table I rolled from clean in half. Mind you, this was the first time I ever faced an Oni. And they were absolutely terrifying! Enough to give me nightmares for about three days, tops. It swinged again in a horizontal curve, almost taking my head.

"Bear! Get back!" I looked up to see him holding a frag. I dived to the side as the frag got tossed. But the Oni was smarter than it looked. It turned it's torso with amazing speed and knocked it away, exploding a hole in the wall of the train car.

"Holy crap!" I shouted, rolling and covering my head from any debris. The sounds of metal feet moved away from me. I glanced up and saw the Oni moving away to deal with a new threat: Wolf. "It's coming for you!"

"You think?!" Wolf backed up into the other car, the Oni following and shrugging off all bullets. I started looking around to find my weapon, and found it. Apparently it had been stepped on and was bent around the middle. No using that. So all I had was my MP5 and pistol. Or so I thought. I reached to my chest to find it not there, and saw it by the table, the strap cut. So I all really I had was my pistol. Pulling my USP.45, I fired, using my spare hand to support my firing hand while moving back to distance myself. It continued to shrug off bullets, though did not ignore them. Raising an arm, I saw it had a small attachment to it's arm. A large pin-looking harpoon flew out, a long length of rope attached.

I moved to roll, but I couldn't avoid it in time. Luckily it barely missed my shoulder. Unluckily, it caught my uniform and pinned me there against the wall I backed into.

I cursed under my breath, now holstering my weapon and attempting to remove the harpoon. Another addition other time. And while pinned, all I could do was watch as Wolf fought helplessly. And when I heard the scratching of claws on the roof, I knew things could only get worse.

Through the hole in the ceiling, a mechanical beast fell. A Stalker, equipped with mounted LMG. But it did not target me. Not even look at me. It was looking at the Oni. Once I saw the unordinary tail, my hope was restored.

"Stripes!" The Stalker's head reared and the mech turned to see me. I swear, if that thing could smile it would have. Cause it sure made me smile. It analysed my situation and came bounding over. Using the added lower jaw, it grabbed the harpoon and yanked the spike out of the wall, freeing me. I patted the robot on the head, earning a mechanical purr. Or something like that. Whoever had sent him in also had a surprise. A rifle on its side, clipped on. I unclipped it to see it was an M16 assault rifle. I smirked and looked at Stripes' metal face. "Go get him, boy." Stripes ran off, facing its target.

I checked the ammo clip as the Stalker charged. Armor-piercing rounds. The others must not have been far behind. Or, Wolf was much more prepared for these types of situations than I thought. I moved my gaze from my weapon to see a sight I never thought I would see. Two machines, both made by the KPA, in a brawl.

Stripes leapt at the wall to its right before leaping off, letting out a mechanical growl. The Oni however had speed and quick-thinking on its side. They were designed to be superior, while Stalkers were meant for more frontline use. Stalkers were much more expendable. And that was something Orca could not fix as much as he would have liked.

The Oni grabbed the neck of the Stalker in one swift movement. In the other hand it readied it's blade to stab. There was one advantage Stripes had. The tail was sharp on the end, and with a flick it cut through some wiring in the grabbing hand. The Oni dropped Stripes. I took my chance at the stunned Oni and began to fire while Stripes was in the clear, hitting at the vulnerable joint area at its legs. The Oni fell into a kneel, giving Stripes a go at its head. Stripes clawed at its armored head and over it's back, ripping and tearing wherever it's claws could. The Oni punched up, forcing the Stalker back. From one leg was a small SMG hidden in a compartment that came out, for when it comes to long range combat and it runs out of ammunition on the big guns. Without facing me it fired a burst. I rolled out of the way into a crouched position, then went back to firing.

Stripes did the same, keeping back and firing its mounted LMG, also with armor-piercing rounds. The Oni could shrug off no more. It charged at Stripes, or more-so limped. With a powerful strike it severed the LMG. Being underneath the katana Stripes leapt forward, knocking the Oni down. This was the finishing job as it pounded down like some savage gorilla, claws leaving marks down the Oni's face and chest. I remained in my crouched position, staring in awe and fear, just picturing any Stalker doing this. Oil splattered the ground around the Oni like blood, sparks coming out as wiring was cut and metal slashed against metal.

The fight was soon all over. Metal scraps spread around the metal shell. A dull red slowly dimming down in the Oni's eye. I stood up, holding myself my knees. Now that the fight was over I could start to feel the effect from all the moving around.

The Stalker came over like it was nothing. Except for the slight limp. As it turned out, the punch had moved one of its forelegs slightly out of the socket.

"We'll get you looked at" I promised, sweeping a hand over its head. I thought it weird before why they treated this thing like an actual pet. Now I could see why.

"Bear!" Glancing up I could see Wolf coming, with Hawk and Lion behind. Lion went past into the engine room. "We need to stop this train." I stood there, listening. "That Oni took too much time off our schedule. A few minutes ahead is the rigged bridge." My eyes widened. That bridge was rigged to blow when the train went over. "There's more!" Lion shouted. We all turned to see him at the door to the engine room. "They've sabotaged it. They must have known we were trying to stop this train. What they probably didn't know, was that the bridge ahead was rigged to blow."

"Well, that's a great way to brighten our day! What else could go wrong?!" I sarcastically said. They all glared at me. "Sorry." Wolf turned away, hand on his chin as he paced. I wanted to shout _'What are you doing?! This is no time for pacing!',_ but he was a thinker. He could think a way out of this. And that he did as his head moved up from the floor.

"In that car back there, there's something important. Now, I know our objective was to capture this train. But we can all see that the objective has gone to shit." We all nodded. "But, whatever is in there is _big_." He took the vial out of his pocket. "We need to get this back. So everyone, grabbed as many vials as you can!" I sighed.

"So we going for plan B?"

"Yes, Bear. We're going for plan B." I groaned. I hated Plan B.

We each got a few vials in our pockets, then met up at the hole in the side of the car. Then, we each grabbed a chute from Stripes' back. What can I say? They always prepare for the worst.

"Everyone ready?!" We nodded once more. "Good! Then jump!" Everyone but me jumped, as I was a bit hesitant. Everyone but Stripes, who gave me a well-needed nudge. I fell out, Stripes following, to the river below. Halfway down, I felt the air ripple around me as something exploded above. I pulled my chute to try and slow me down as we all descended into the rushing dark water below.

A long way up river, we washed up on a river bank. I laid on my back, panting.

"So...who's got drinks?"


	20. Arc III: The Warning Signs

**Chester, 11:32, 20th March, Jason's POV**

* * *

A day had passed since the retaking of the city of Chester. My home town. Many who I had known as friends of our family, and a couple of my own friends killed in the firefights that raged across the city landscape. Just three hours ago the all clear was given, all KPA forces left had either left or been captured. Or killed.

I had never thought I would ever handle a weapon. Let alone kill a man. My aim had done rather well when I first fired, although the recoil had put me off. I had been relaxed then, knowing I was just shooting a target. The thought of shooting a living being never crossed my mind. Even Wyatt had said I was good. Although, truth be told, it was all luck. I had never admitted it to him, it was just complete luck. I don't know why I hadn't said that in the first place. So, here I was. Sure, I had always disliked the KPA garrison of Chester, but I had never wanted to _kill_. Yet, here I was. Having shot several men just doing their job. And I...I killed them. At the time, the adrenaline had come to save me.

I felt a firm grip on my shoulder, and quickly turned my head around to see whoever was holding my shoulder to see an auburn haired man. _Wyatt._ The man who had brought me into this.

"Thinking about the battle?" he asked. His face was rather chiseled, with what looked like would become a new scar across his cheek. I had never come to recognize every feature on his face.

I turned away from Wyatt, my fingers rhythmically tapping along the wall. It was high and I could see both sides of the wall; the city of Chester and the ruined outside. Both of which I had traversed before.

"I..." I couldn't muster any words, despite how much I wanted to speak.

"It's all right...first time I show someone, I felt the same for weeks. Couldn't even look at a gun." There was a long pause. "It's a terrible feeling, watching someone die in front of you..." I looked over my shoulder to his face. It seemed distant, like his head was at another place...or maybe a memory.

"What...what happ-"

"Wyatt, radio's online. You might want to hear this" Wyatt gave a firm nod to whoever it was, it wasn't a voice that I recognized then disappeared. I turned to see both of them going down the wall through one of the towers that had stairs within, I couldn't recognize who it was from behind.

Quickly after they disappeared from sight, I followed swiftly behind them. I heard nothing from the conversation as they went down the stairs, and it did make me very curious to know what they were speaking of.

I hadn't realized I still had a pistol holstered at my side till I had started moving, the weapon having some weight to my side.

It was quite a long walk till we got down to the bottom, and just seeing all the ruin once more. People were pulling out of Chester. The KPA would be arriving at any moment with a counter attack, with none of them having any kind of idea how large the counter force would be. There were some sentries on the walls, watching for any sign of the counter force. I was very afraid of them arriving, knowing that after we had attacked and 'liberated' Chester, they would leave no mercy.

"Jason?!" I stopped and looked around, and to my right down the street that's where I saw a familiar face.

"Dad!" I rushed over quickly. I had never been so glad to see their faces. He took me into a hug, I was so very glad to see him. Once all was said and done, a few words exchanged, I figured out that my mother wasn't here.

"Where's Mom?"

"Safe. She's going with the first out of here. I was about to go, but I wanted to find you first. If we are going to leave, we need to now." He tugged on my wrist, but I pulled back.

"Uh...sorry Dad...but I'm staying here?" He turned back, glaring subtly. For a moment it hung there, before suddenly it was replaced by a caring smile. He placed a hand on my shoulder. No ridicule for being stupid. It took me by surprise.

"Just...just stay alive out there, all right? We both want to see you when this is all over" he said, then he began turn around slowly. I was taken aback, before giving a small smile back then began to head off back on the trail of Wyatt...whom had apparently disappeared.

* * *

 **Wyatt's POV**

* * *

I knew that Jason was falling me all the way from the wall, and I did not mind one bit. However I did glance back once to see who was calling his name, and when I saw their gesture to each other that's when it came to my mind.

I grinned to myself at seeing that finally Jason had found his family. Although any talk between them did not fall on any eavesdropping ears as I didn't stick around to hear. One of Chester's resistance cell members led me to where their headquarters had been during that big battle. Another welcomed us through. It was filled to the brim with resistance members rushing about. Now, I had been in many other resistance cells, and this one was not merely as organised as the rest.

With the leading member I was following leaving me behind, I found ahead the table with the radio, as well as Lydia standing by and Milo leaning on a long crutch made to suit him.

Lydia gave a nod, and Milo did not see me approaching until I put a hand on his shoulder, looking over it.

"What's the good news?" I assumed there was some, as there no grim look.

"Welllll, if you think a direct call from the Fleet-"

"The fleet? Are you sure?" Lydia nodded. That was most surprising to hear. Last we had heard anything from them...well, San Francisco had been hit. We all knew how that went down.

I gestured to the radio to tune it, which she did. Some crackling came through, followed by some more recognizable chatter from the other side.

 _"...Operation Seattle is in effect. All resistance cells, military forces and other required units report in. Operation Seattle is in effect. All resistance cells, military forces and other required units report in. Opera-"_ I turned it out, then put a hand to my chin as I thought deeply about this. Operation Seattle? I hadn't heard a thing about this.

"What's all this 'Operation Seattle' stuff about?"

"You really think I wouldn't have given you an answer if I knew?" she asked, with raised brows.

"Good point." There was a long moment of silence as we thought over this. Operation Seattle... _Operation Seattle..._

"Well...it's obviously got something to do with Seattle, yes?" Milo piped up. Both I and Lydia gave him a half-lidded stare, as if to say 'obviously'.

"Lydia report in" I ordered, and she nodded then picked up the microphone attached to the radio. "Milo...go get your leg checked out" I said with a sigh. He nodded, grinning as he began to move off, hobbling along.

"Any idea what all of this is about? I have a feeling you know a bit more than me" I said once Milo was gone. She shrugged, still listening over headphones now with one of them over one ear, the other not covering so she could also hear Wyatt. "And any other messages?"

"I barely got much from the message on repeat, except exactly what Milo said. No other messages, just trying to...decipher this one" she replied. So she knew as much as I did.

This was all quite confusing to me. Word of the liberation of Chester would have gotten out by now, and now this? Things were coming together, just like before the battle of San Francisco. One pin, then another linked by a string. Many strings leading to the center; Operation Seattle. All there was to learn was what was the middle? There was someone I suspected that could know. Briefly I wondered where exactly she was, or what she was up to. But part of me already knew what exactly she was up to.

* * *

 **New Mexico, 8:40, 20th March**

* * *

"You hear? Chester got liberated."

"So Pennsylvania is finally pushing them back? Still can't believe they caught us by surprise like that. They managed to take Pennsylvania, just like that. Or at least half of it..."

"Equally surprised we had done nothing about it till now. Sure, Philadelphia has a big GKA garrison, but seriously in that area we outnumber them by a- 10'o'clock, see it, Anya?"

One of the pair, a woman, looked down the scope quickly of the M200 bolt-action Sniper, a Mosin Nagnat strapped across my back. An old weapon, sure, but it was my preferred weapon of choice. Anya had a lot of history with the rifle. Her partner was armed with an M468 rifle, an EO-tech holographic sight. The M200 was more for distance.

Down the scope, Anya spotted a trail of dust behind some metallic object travelling at a rather high speed. With a closer look it was seen that there was in fact multiple. Just as intel had suggested.

"Three. Looks like a truck and two armored vehicles...KPA. Looks like intel was right."

" _Course it was right"_ a voice came over the radio. I made a grab for it, not realizing it was on. _"Intel is rarely wrong, except for those couple of times where it did go wrong. But this shouldn't go wrong, no it shouldn-"_

"Hopper...we talked about this, everything will go fine." There was silence, then a sigh on the other end. "Wander, have you ever met anyone so nervous?" Anya asked, once Anya was sure that the radio was off. Wander shook his head in response.

"Most I meet are tough, and stubborn." Anya glanced over, with a small grin.

"Guess that all rubbed off on you" Anya snickered at her own remark, returning down the scope. Anya shifted the course of the scope down to follow the road the convoy traveled. Down the road, that's where she spotted a few buildings, surrounded by a wall of metal sheets put together as well as crates. It looked like a farm, protected by a poorly designed wall, but what was to be expected from such ruffians? They got in everyone's way, never got much out of it in return.

Anya adjusted the scope's zoom, focusing on a gate part of the wall. It was slowly opening, a guard stationed within some excuse of a guard tower. That, she had to admit looked somewhat good and stable. Would withstand bullets. A rocket-propelled-grenade on the other hand...

Anya tuned into the radio, connecting to the other team. They would need to know exactly where the convoy's position was, they were closer to the bandit's camp as well so they would be in danger if they did not know how close it was. It was a threat, so they would need to make this quick in enemy territory with their such small numbers.

"Anya checking in, gate's opened. Target's on it's way." Another voice checked in this time, one that sounded tougher than Hopper. Not a hard thing to accomplish.

 _"Jacobs here, we see them. Moving in, keep you eye on us would you? Wouldn't want someone to surprise us and ruining this mission, would we?"_ Anya rolled her eyes.

The convoy was coming up on the gate. Some distance away, by a corner of the wall out of sight from anyone at the gate was two others, the other team. Hopper was off sight with their evac.

"Anya, can you make the shot?" Anya glanced over, as if questioning if he knew her at all. Of course she could make the shot. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder after she had turned away from him, brushing it back behind her ears.

Aiming back down sights, Anya lined up the long barrel of my M200 down to the gate. Yeah, she could definitely make that shot. But for now, she just had to be sure for when the time comes. Anya had to keep my finger off the trigger, for now.

"I could make it. Keeping an eye on those trucks right now." The KPA trucks passed through the gate with no resistance, that confirmed it more that the KPA and these...people were in league together. She wasn't sure if she should call them 'people', they all had heard a lot of bad things about them. And knowing they were allied with the KPA...it at least explained how they got so many KPA weapons when they attacked that Resistance base a few miles off.

She lifted her head away the scope and activated the radio.

"Lead target in sight" she murmured into the radio, getting an acknowledgement back through it. Her crosshairs rested on the head of the lead target, the leader of the Buzzards, as they called themselves. Wasn't sure what was behind the name, but at least Anya and the others had something to call them.

With those KPA there, they wouldn't be able to move in just yet. They would have to wait till they left. They weren't the target, only the Buzzards were. At least, they were the first target. They needed to know what was up.

The front gate opened while Anya had been drifting about in her own thoughts.

Meanwhile, the team of Anya's allies near the camp were making their way over a fence that had no barbed wire on top, carefully. They soon disappeared from sight.

"They're over" Anya said to Wander. Now all they had to do was await the call to give support fire.

* * *

Jacobs landed first over the wall, followed by Rianna. Some may have believed it to be a bad idea to go with just two, but they thought they had the best cover. Hopper was far off somewhere with their exfil.

Armed with a suppressed USP.45, and an M4 as well as gear that would make him look like one of the Buzzards. Rianna had the same. They had to be close to the shadows as to not be recognized as not one of the Buzzards, their gear would help remain inconspicuous.

"All right, we will need to move carefully. Remember the plan?" Rianna glared at him. "Take that as a yes. Let's get going before we miss this chance." He led and she followed as they moved through the Buzzards encampment. The convoy came through slowly, Jacobs barely caught a glance of it. He gave a short nod to one of the Buzzards who glanced their way, receiving another. He had to act like he was part of the group if he were to mingle. They both stopped off a distance from the convoy. And then, out he came.

The leader of the Buzzards, a rather short man with a thick beard and a large facial scar. Made it look like he had a bad time shaving his eyebrows, if he ever tried.

Jacobs attempted to get closer, to listen for what they were saying. He soon heard what exactly the conversation between the KPA captain and the Buzzard's leader.

"What we got 'ere?"

"Not for you to know. You get pay, we go through." The Buzzards leader shook his head.

"Oh no, I see what you got. What's the worst that could happen, we go tellin' someone?"

Jacobs imagined the KPA captain scowling behind his mask. Then, with a click of his fingers the captain went to the back of the truck. It opened, revealing the contents inside. And once Jacobs saw it, he knew that it would immediately change the plan. He slowly paced back till he got back to where Rianna was.

"We got a change of plans. Follow my lead."

"What? What are you on-" But Jacobs was already moving. Rianna rolled her eyes and huffed before moving after Jacobs.

"Jacobs, are you going to tell me what is going on?" she asked once both of them were out of earshot.

"In that truck. It had yellow containers, with a biohazard sign on them. That sound like good news to you?"

"Fuck no, it doesn't...What do we do? We can't let it get away, right?" Jacobs shook his head. "I'll call Hopper then, tell him to get ready." While she got on that once they got inside the barn, while Jacobs looked about for just what they needed. And he found exactly that. A gas tank.

Clipping a frag grenade from his belt, he pulled the pin then gave an under arm toss at it. It clanged against it. One Buzzard must have heard, moving towards the sound to pick up the grenade. With a sudden cry of surprise, Jacobs heard the explosion next. It blew him right off his feet, was certainly bigger than he had expected. That's when the firefight started.

* * *

"Hopper, they are in. Are you ready?" There was a 'yes' on the other end, and that was it. That was all she needed to hear, anyway. Nothing was heard, although the pair of long shots were a long way away. Anya caught out of the corner of her eye Wander fiddling with his M648. "Do you have to do that?" she grumbled, going back straight down the scope as an attempt to ignore that fiddling.

"Oh, come on. You are in perfect focus, nothing can bring you out of it." Though he still put the weapon down, putting the binoculars back up and looking down toward the camp. "Nothing's stirred up yet. Surprised they have lasted this long."

"You don't know them, neither of us do. But I've heard things. They survived the Battle of San Francisco, you know."

"That hornet's nest? They were there?"

"From what I heard, they helped kick the nest." Wander glanced off to the side, he sure was surprised to hear that. Then he shrugged it off. But Anya could still see the surprise. To be honest, when she had first seen them, she thought they were just a rag-tag resistance group. They seemed to have done a lot more than most she had seen, for the amount of members they had. There were only just the three of them. There was a long line of silence...

"Just the three of them? What could those three do?" Wander couldn't help but ask.

"I don't exactly know what they did. Why don't y-" An explosion of smoke clouded up from the western part of the camp. Panic set in.

"What the hell did they do?!" Whatever was happening, Anya had set to work. Taking her first target up into her crosshairs, she pulled the trigger, firing her first round of the day. It soared through the air, tearing the target through their chest.

The KPA were piling into their vehicles, heading out quickly. Even ramming the gate at the other end of the camp. They weren't the target, the camp was. Another one of Anya's targets were dropped quickly, someone with an assault rifle firing at the barn. The Buzzards were probably trying to retake it, no doubt having all their vehicles inside the barn. Meanwhile, Wander was trying to get in contact with the ground team.

By Anya's seventh target, Wander was making a call to Hopper. She hadn't heard what Wander had been saying until she felt a tap on her shoulder. She was about to question what he wanted, but he was way ahead of her.

"Plan's changed. We need to get after those trucks. Hopper is on his way, so pack up we need to go!" He said all this as he was already on the move, leaving Anya to lie there with her rifle for a moment before the words came through. She took her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder then following Wander.

Hopper pulled up ahead of them with an uncovered truck, the back having some sheet metal along the sides to protect anyone on the back. Wander climbed into the back, Anya following suite. They were both greeted by a bark from the front passenger seat.

"You treated him well, I hope."

"I don't think the dog can-"

"Not talking to the dog" Wander rebuked. Hopped shut up, then nodded. "Thank you, I knew I could trust you take care of him...So, are we moving?"

"Right! Hold on!" Hopper pushed on the accelerator, and the truck lurched forward. The KPA would no doubt be moving fast, so they would need to get across open cross country.

Wander picked up an M248 light machine gun that was in a case in the back of the truck. Pulling the bipod out, he rested the weapon against the back of the truck roof. Their truck bumped along the open ground toward the road where they would no doubt find the KPA's convoy.

Speaking of which, that road was coming up. Far ahead along it, the KPA convoy. It seemed to have slowed down, thinking they had outrun the trouble for now.

"Anya! Could use your help!" She nodded and set up her sniper rifle onto the roof next to Wander. "On my go, fire. All right?" She nodded. They must not have noticed them approaching, not until the truck came up close behind. The armored vehicle at the rear began firing with a high-power caliber machine gun. Anya and Wander returned fire.

"Anya!" Wander gestured with his head behind them to a case. Holding onto the side, Anya crawled over to the case before opening it, finding something that made her grin.

"For me? How did you know?" Wander shrugged.

She picked up the AAWS-M launcher over her shoulder, readied it over the roof, then fired. Judging by Hopper's shout of surprise, he did not expect it to be used so close to the driver's seat, or rather right above it. The rocket launched towards the locked-on target, zooming after it. It hit straight into the rear left, the vehicle then flipped in a fiery explosion.

"I guess that...works" she barely heard Hopper mutter. But there was still the KPA truck. "So you want me to pull up next to that truck?" Anya's eyes widened for a moment. She turned her gaze to Wander.

"I'm sorry, what are we doing?" Wander shrugged with a grin on his face.

"Apparently, Jakobs found something on it. We need to get on it. Hopper, pick up the speed!" he shouted, banging on the top of the truck. Their truck's speed picked up as they closed the distance toward their target. Anya was not sure if this was even safe, and she knew what Wander's plan was. Although when the second armored vehicle came out from in front of them, Anya took Wander's M248 that he had put down and began firing at it's gun, trying to disable it.

Wander climbed up onto the front of the truck, trying to slide forward to the hood of their truck, holding onto whatever he could hold on to. Then, as soon as they got close enough...

"Wander!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, fearing for his life as he leaped from their truck to the back of the KPA truck, barely grabbing hold. He went about climbing along the sides, carefully as the turret of the front vehicle was distracted with Anya's fire. Hopper was forced to pull back as the KPA truck started to swerve, trying to throw Wander off. He held his grip. Anya could hear the dog, Tank, barking for his trainer.

There was a moment where Wander disappeared near the front, and Anya expected to see him tumbling behind. Someone did in fact come tumbling out, screaming out in pain. Then the truck got back on track before speeding forth toward the KPA escort. Ramming into their behind a few times got them to go out of control, turning left and right before soon it flipped out off the road. The two trucks sped ahead, leaving the KPA driver and gunner to climb out of the crashed vehicle.

The trucks stopped off to the side where Anya hopped off the back to rush to the KPA truck. She ran along the side to find Wander climbing out. She ran at him, lunging at him in a hug.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ do that again. You hear me?!"

"Yes, yes I do. I hear you" he responded.

An excited bark drew their attention to their Belgian Malinois running toward them. Wander bent down, greeting the canine as any good dog owner would. Hopper followed along, going past them to open up the back of the truck. The pair stopped playing around with Tank when they noticed the truck's back door opening.

Wander stood up, no longer smiling as he suddenly became serious.

"Now, let's see what exactly they were...what the heck is this?" Anya was confused as well as she sure the yellow cylindrical containers. With a biohazard sign on the side.

"Wha...what is this?" Hopper came by behind them, just as shocked as they were. "Well...this is going to be a great story to tell the others...We should get this truck back to base so they can examine...whatever this all is."


End file.
